


Not Sure When

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CIA agent Maddey Liebling hides her bleeding heart behind her outer façade of strength. But one night off the coast of Florida, her whole life changes in the Homo Superior form of a hurricane. His arrival is just the jumping off point in a whirlwind of events that leads her to discovering who she is and her path in life. All in eleven months, Maddey adjusts to the realities of her past, her present, and her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and I'm so glad it's finally out there. I didn't realize until now that I have spelled Moira's name wrong and I'm so sorry, but either way here it is. Trigger warning wise a kind of major background point is the Holocaust and there is some violence.

I look down at this typewriter and I question myself. Why am I doing this? What exactly am I here to tell you? Why do you care? I realize that all the answers lie within this story. I would start with the very beginning of my life story, but that would kill the suspense. So instead, I will begin with the night I first met Erik Lehnsherr—who would soon become Magneto, a man with a genocidal motive and a knack for metals.  
…  
It was chilly outside, but not quite cold enough for me to have a coat on over my long sleeved Oxford sweater. I had long been accustomed to the cold. Suddenly I heard Charles yell something over the side of the ship. I turned to see Moria looking confused, as per usual, and Charles practically swan diving off the deck. I immediately ran to the rail, but wasn’t too keen on jumping off as well.  
“So what’s he doing?” I asked Moria.  
“He said there was someone in the water!” She exclaimed. “But I don’t see him.”  
For some background: Moria and I had been partners—agents in crime, if you will—for just over a year now. Moria was quite possibly my best friend, other than Charles, of course. I could trust her, I thought. She knew about my past and as far as I knew, never told anyone. Charles was the only person I could completely trust on this planet.   
I was not worried about Charles; I knew he could handle himself. But clearly the person in the water was suicidal, and a mutant. He was trying to stop Shaw’s submarine with his mutation, but it wasn’t strong enough yet. That would change. For the worse or for the better is a matter of opinion.   
When Charles and the man were brought aboard, Moria and I were shoved away, trying to catch a glimpse through the raging medical crew.   
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Moria said.  
“I think he’ll be fine.”  
Fast forward four hours. It’s one in the morning and everyone is still buzzing about what happened. The Event, they were calling it. Rumors flew about whom the man was, and his purpose. I, for one, did not care to know. His business was his business and none of mine. I appreciated privacy. I still do.   
I was just about to take a Danish from the cafeteria when I heard my name being said over the intercom. “Agent Liebling to interrogation room four, please, Agent Liebling to interrogation room four.”  
I groaned, put the Danish back down and set off towards the lower deck. I loathed interrogating people. I hated getting inside their heads, unlike Charles.   
I saw the door into room four and sighed.   
“Agent Liebling?”  
“Yes.”  
I turned to face a nameless agent I owe my pain and happiness to. “He’s not talking. And he’s not breaking anytime soon. You’re good at this, right?”  
“Depends on who you ask.”  
“Well, Moria recommended you. This guy made her cry.”   
I exhaled. Moria cried a lot, but usually with me. “Well, shit. Thanks for the info.”  
“No problem.”  
I turned the door handle. The room had no windows and everything in it was gray. The walls, the chairs, the table, the floor. The man sitting at the table was leaning his elbows on the table, hands folded with perfect posture. He was still in his wetsuit, which extenuated his slender figure. He had a smirk on his face that I would have liked to punch off, but instead sat in the chair opposite him.  
“Are you here to ask me more personal questions?” he asked.  
“No.”  
He cocked his head to the side, that same challenging grin plastered on his face. “Well then what are you here to do?”  
“I am here to inform you that the more you try to resist, the more they will question you, and they will get something out of you, if it takes them the rest of their lives. Catching communists is kind of a big deal here in America. So I beg your pardon, but personally I think you’re being stubborn and moronic and you should at least make up a believable lie. And if anything, these guys can help you—or at the very least—give you information about this guy if you cooperate. I assume that is what you are after.”  
He said nothing, but looked down at his hands.  
“Now listen, I’m not going to try to tell you that I understand whatever happened to you that made you want to murder whoever that is so badly. I mean, you could have died. You could have died in that water and never have avenged whatever you are attempting to.”  
His blue-gray eyes met mine and I was taken aback by their sincerity and kindness. I was expecting the stone-cold eyes of a killer. “My name is Erik Lehnsherr.”  
“Maddey Liebling.”  
Erik lifted and eyebrow. “You know what your last name means?”  
I chuckled. So he spoke German. I could have guessed from his name, I suppose. “Yeah, I know. It means darling in German.”  
“I assume you’ve been told that before.”   
“Many times.”  
“So,” he unfolded his hands and sat back in his chair, obviously more relaxed. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask me any questions? Why do I want to kill Shaw? Where was I born? Do you want to know about my past?”  
“To be honest, no. That’s your deal, thanks.”  
He smiled from the corners of his mouth. “You’re not really much of a darling at all, are you?”  
“I’ve also been told that before. I think it’s my passive-aggressive demeanor.”  
We both laughed, and I could tell I was the first person to make him laugh like that in a long time.   
The door opened, and it was Charles, looking worried. “Maddey! There you are. Nobody told me where you were.”  
“The said it over the intercom. And I’m kind of in the middle of something here, Charles. Would you mind coming back later?”  
Erik waved his hand. “No, go ahead. I’ll just sit here and wait to catch my death of dampness. You can go with your boyfriend.” He spat.   
I pointed at Erik. “Um, okay, first, he is not my boyfriend. Secondly, I will inquire as to some dry clothes.”  
“Maddey. Let’s go.” Charles said.  
“Charles, you need to calm down, alright? Chill, dude.” I looked over at Erik. “I’m going to have someone bring you some food and stuff, okay? If they don’t bring it try to contact me and I will personally kick their ass.”  
“I don’t doubt it.”  
I left with Charles, slightly worried as to what the whereabouts of Erik Lehnsherr were going to be within the next few days.  
I would soon find out.   
…  
I was at the Pentagon a few days later when I received a call from Charles.  
“Hello, Maddey?”  
“Hey, Charles. Why are you calling?”  
He sighed. “I cannot tell you too much over the phone. But we need you.”  
“We?”  
“Like I said, I can’t tell you a lot via telephone,” he audibly sighed. “But I’m warning you, it involves people.” He paused. “But it also involves hunting down a former Nazi-turned-communist.”   
“Where do I sign up?”  
…  
I strutted confidently into the facility I had no idea about, with people I had never met before. But, being a CIA agent that was something I was used to.   
I turned a corner to see the Blackbird mock-up and Hank McCoy, the Boy Genius, speaking to Charles about mechanics. Charles spun his head to see me and smiled like a dork.  
“Maddey! Finally! Everyone has been on pins and needles waiting for your arrival.”  
“Oh, I’m sure.” I said sarcastically.   
Charles rolled his eyes. “Have you met Hank? He’s extremely intelligent; I think you’d like him.”  
“Yeah, I’ve met Hank. I helped him with some of the designs for Cerebro.”   
Hank sheepishly met Charles’s eyes. “I haven’t told them about it yet.”  
“Maddey?”  
I whipped around to see Erik Lehnsherr, in the flesh, smiling like a madman.   
“Well, hi, Erik. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I said, taking a few steps towards him.   
Now closer than we had ever been before, Erik softly said, “I didn’t know you were Charles’s sister.”  
“I’m adopted.” I said sternly but quietly.  
“He mentioned that.”  
Charles clapped his hands and took my elbow, dragging me away from whatever gravity was pulling me towards Erik. “Alright kids, shall we go see what this Cerebro machine is all about?”  
Hank dove right into explaining Cerebro. I walked slightly behind the two of them, next to Erik. He had that smirk on his face again and the urge to wipe it off was still strong. Erik put his hands in his pockets and directed his attention towards me.  
“So,” he said, “has Charles always been a pretentious British jackass?”  
I laughed. “For as long as I can remember.”  
“He’s got quite the IQ.” Erik stated, speaking quietly now so Hank and Charles definitely couldn’t hear us over their chatter.   
“Charles has always been intelligent. We just assume it’s a part of his mutation.” I sighed. “He never let me live down that I got two points less than him on that IQ test.” I said.  
“Only two points?”   
“You seem shocked.” I said, slightly offended. “Do I appear to have that much of an intelligence gap with my brother?”   
“No!” Erik exclaimed. “No. I never assumed that you were not intellectual.”  
Just as Erik said this, Hank unlocked the door to Cerebro, revealing a spherical room with a switchboard on the far side. It all looked very space age, clean cut, unsoiled. Hank was still talking about Cerebro to Charles, telling him how it worked, et cetera.   
“What an adorable lab rat you make, Charles.” Erik said.   
Erik and Charles conversed as I ran my fingers over the switchboard, flashbacking almost twenty years, then coming back to the present. Nearly twenty years ago I felt my hands doing the same thing.   
I pushed that thought quickly out of my head.  
…  
Charles was raving about Cerebro and Hank’s brilliance for the rest of the day. Erik and I usually stood in the background, talking aimlessly or making fun of Charles. Erik wasn’t too eager to be here, I could tell, but at least he didn’t seem absolutely miserable. Hank and Charles were together most of the evening, so Erik and I decided to spend it in the facility’s library. It was sparsely furnished, with very little books, but there wasn’t much else to do.   
I sat on a loveseat near the curtained window, and Erik sat in the armchair across from me. I had pulled a book off the shelf when we had entered and so had Erik. We were content with just sitting in silence, which was alright with me. There is a quote something along the lines of ‘never give up someone you can read in silence with.’ I thoroughly believe in that. Quiet, when shared with the right person, does not have to be awkward. That’s what I thought was one of his greatest traits. His ability to put me at ease without making the silence uncomfortable, as Moria would. Speaking of, I probably should have found her earlier.   
“What book are you reading?” Erik asked.  
“Oh,” I said. “Um…Pride & Prejudice.”  
“Ah. Another classic about a strong-willed young woman who doesn’t need a man in her life but ends up falling head over heels anyway. I’m not surprised.”  
I elevated my eyebrow. “That I’m reading it or the premise?”  
He chuckled. “The premise.”  
“Well, I’ll have you know that I do not only read romance novels, thank you. I have a variety of other genres I read.”  
“I wasn’t insulting you.”  
“I know.” I said. “I’m just giving you a little background information.”  
“We really don’t know that much about each other, do we?” He questioned, slamming his book shut and placing it on the window sill. “Are you ready for a game of twenty questions?”  
“Oh God. Okay. Shoot.”   
He began with; “Favorite color?”  
“Sunset orange,” I said.  
That piqued his interest. “And why that particular shade of orange?”  
“I don’t really know. I just always thought that color was very beautiful. I mean, sunsets are always beautiful, but when you get this shade of orange, it’s stuck in between red and yellow in the sunset and it burns really bright, you know? Incredibly fierce yet calming at the same time. And it differs from sunrise orange. Sunrise orange is bland.”  
Erik didn’t seem like he knew how to respond, but he continued on. “Did you go to college?”  
“Yes. Oxford, with Charles. I got a PhD in foreign languages.”  
“I’m impressed.” He said.   
“Thank you.”  
“So what languages do you speak, then?”  
I breathed out. “German, English, obviously, Polish, Latin, but that’s a dead language. Oh, and uh, French, Spanish and Hebrew.”  
“Deutsch? Endlich jemand der Sinn spricht.” German? Finally, someone who speaks sense.   
I laughed. “Ich sympathisiere mit Ihnen auf, das man.” I have to sympathize with you on that one.   
“I had no idea you spoke so many languages.” Erik said in English. “That’s remarkable.”  
“I’ve always had a knack.” I said.   
“Shall we get back to the questionnaire?” I nodded my consent. “How old are you?” Erik asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.  
“Twenty-three. I’ll be twenty-four in May. I graduated early from college and high school.” I said. Erik reclined back in his chair, looking somewhat astonished. “What? Do I look older? Younger? What’s the deal?”  
“No. I was just expecting there to be a ridiculous age difference, in either direction.” He said. “What day is your birthday?”  
“May 6th, 1938.”  
“April 2nd, 1936.” He replied.  
“I’ll keep that in mind.”   
He furrowed his eyebrows. “You really think it’s going to take that long to find Shaw?”  
“No. I know it’s late November now, but he’s tricky. He’s been on the run for years. He’ll be good at hiding by now.”  
Erik turned his head towards the window and I suddenly felt sadness, disappointment, and pure agony exuding from every fiber of his being. He leaned his cheek into his hand.   
“Erik?” I scooted forward on my chair. “Did I say something?” I pursed my lips. “Do you really not want to be here that much?”  
“No.” He whispered. “I enjoy spending time with Charles and especially with you, but I’ve dedicated years of my life to hunting him down, to killing him. And I don’t know if the CIA is going to hold me back or push me forward.”  
“Believe me Erik; we’re good at what we do. There is no doubt in my mind that we will find him. But it isn’t going to happen immediately. Shaw is an expert. He’s been doing this since World War Two and even having time for some vacations along the way. This isn’t something that is going to happen with a snap of someone’s fingers.”  
“I know that.” He murmured.   
“Maddey?” Charles’s voice rang through the library like a grieving woman’s shriek.   
“Yes, Charles?” I said.   
“May I speak with you?”  
I sighed. “Of course.”   
Charles motioned for me to join him in the hallway. Erik sat, head cradled in both of his slim hands.  
“What has he told you?” Charles asked, pulling me away from the open door.  
“He hasn’t told me anything about himself, if that’s what you’re asking. The only thing I really know about him is that he speaks German.” I said, taking a step back from Charles. “You have obviously been in his head. If he doesn’t want to tell me about his past, that is perfectly fine with me. He’ll tell me when he wants me to know.”  
“All I know is that-.”  
I cut him off, waving a dismissing hand. “Don’t tell me anything. If it’s that important, Erik will tell me when he’s good and ready.”   
“You two seem to be getting along well.” Charles said.  
“We’ve only known each other for like, a day.” I said. “I’m going to go apologize to Erik and then go to bed. Good night, Charles.”  
I swiveled away from my brother and walked back toward the library. The door was still open. Erik was already looking at the place where I stood when I arrived. He mouthed, ‘thank you.’ In return, I smiled. I felt something happening, the beginning of a friendship that would have its ups and downs, but would still classify as one of the best. To this day, Erik is one of the best friends I have ever had. We understood each other. We still do. By no means do I hate him for what he did. If anything, I admire and am proud of him for following what he believed in, even if it was a dumbass decision. But he had to figure that out for himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik go off to recruit some young mutants, while Moira and Maddey stay back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my favorite chapter but anyway...

After the use of Cerebro for the first time, Charles and Erik often went into a secluded area of the compound and would discuss something philosophical, drink scotch, and play chess for hours. I didn’t see much of them for a week or so. I spent that time with Moria.   
“Maddey?” Moria asked. “Do you think Charles is going to be okay? I mean with the use of Cerebro and everything?”  
I shut my book and lifted my eyes to meet Moria’s. “He’ll be fine. It shouldn’t be worse than standing in a crowded place, right?”  
“Since when have you become so optimistic? You’re usually pessimistic.”   
“I prefer to see it as realism.”   
Moria traced her fingers in a circle across the table. She seemed genuinely worried. Her auburn hair fell in a sheet, covering her face. Her body heaved once, and then she pushed her chair back from the table and put her hands on her hips. “You know,” she said, “I don’t like all this secrecy. Why isn’t anyone telling us what’s going on?”  
“You work for the CIA. You should be used to people concealing information from you.”  
She started pacing the near the wall of windows, making the curtains flutter as she went by. “I know that. But we’re working this mission too, Maddey. We should be in the loop.” She made a circular gesture with her right pointer finger. “Doesn’t that bother you?”  
I thought about it. Actually, yes, it did bother me. Why didn’t we know what Charles and Erik were up to? “I suppose you’re right, Moria. I’ll ask Charles tonight. They have to come out of that room sometime.”   
“Who has to come out of what room?” Charles asked from the open door, smirking with his hands in his pockets, Erik at his side.   
“Speak of the devil.” I said. I stood up from my chair. “We were just talking about you two. Moria was worried that one of you had dropped dead and the other was too disoriented in their loss of the newfound friend to leave the room.”  
Erik chuckled. “We’re both alive and well, thank you very much.”  
“Well, in that case, I need to speak with my obnoxious brother, if you wouldn’t suffer from too much separation anxiety.” I said to Erik.   
“Please, take him away.” Erik said.   
I took Charles by the wrist and dragged him into the nearest room, very aware of Erik’s eyes on my back as we entered. Charles shut the door, shooting me a worried glance with those sea blue eyes of his. He took his hands out of his pockets only to replace them. I motioned for him to come farther into the room.  
“You haven’t read my mind, have you?” I asked.  
He shook his head. “No. I promised you I’d never do that.”  
“Good.” In a whisper, I said, “Listen, Moria and I want to know what’s going on. What you two are figuring out. Any and all information that you find to be pertinent, either she or I or both need to know about. We’re here to help. We’re trained for this sort of stuff, remember?”   
“Erik and I have just been talking. Getting to know each other better.”  
I shot him a look. “Charles, from what I know about Erik, he isn’t just going to sit around making friends. He is determined to get to Shaw and whoever gets in his way better get the hell out or face the ramifications.”   
“Perhaps this is something better discussed with the three of us.”  
“The three of us?” I cocked an eyebrow.   
“Moria…well, let’s just say she wouldn’t quite understand.”  
“Look,” I murmured. “If this is something about his past, I don’t want to know.”   
Charles tilted his head to the side. “It’s pertinent information.”  
“Maybe not to him. Could he explain without it getting too personal?” I asked.  
“Perhaps.”  
I huffed. “Stop saying ‘perhaps’ you British dork.”  
Charles laughed. I started walking towards the door, with Charles trailing behind me. “If one word of this conversation gets out, I will fight you.”  
“There is no doubt in my mind.”   
Charles gave me a piggyback ride down into the agent’s kitchen, where Hank was furiously writing something down, and Erik was picking at a muffin with a fork that he was controlling with his mind. Both of them looked up when we entered the room. Charles, with me still on his back, went over to the cupboards and took out a box of cereal and handed it to me behind his head. I giggled like a little girl and Charles smiled like the nerd he is. He walked back over to the door and pivoted to face Hank and Erik.  
In a slightly sarcastic voice he said, “I apologize for our uncivil conduct. We realize that it is atypical for a grown man to carry his little sister on his back around a covert CIA facility. We are sorry for the disturbance.”   
I kneed Charles in the ribs. “You’re not even six months older than me! You don’t get to say that!”   
We both laughed. Charles’s eyes met Erik’s. “Also, I apologize for slamming you at chess once again.”  
“My friend, I will beat you someday.” Erik said, bemused.   
“Please do, Erik. Charles needs an ego check. Onward, noble steed!” I said, referring to Charles. “There is cereal to be eaten and Monopoly to be played!”   
…  
The next morning I woke up fuming about my loss to Charles the night before at Monopoly. I hadn’t lost to him since junior high. The embarrassment was excruciating. He was never going to let me live this down.   
When I got dressed and went out to the lobby where I was supposed to meet Moria that morning, I saw Erik and Charles in jackets, ready to make their way out the door.  
“Um, excuse me.” I said. Both of them whipped their heads around, eyes wide. I put my hands on my hips. “Where do the two of you think you’re going?”  
They both looked at each other, and I knew that they were telepathically discussing what they were going to tell me. Charles said, “We’re going recruiting.”  
“Oh? And you weren’t planning on telling your sister, who is also second in charge in this mission, this development?”  
Erik said, “We just assumed that you would be fine with it.”  
“I see that.” I paused. “Well what the hell do you think you’re doing, just standing there? Go, for God’s sake! Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”   
“Right.” Charles said, hugging me. “Don’t have too much fun without us.”  
“Please.” Sarcastically I said, “I can only have fun when you’re around.”   
…  
Erik and Charles were gone for five days. During the course of those five days, Moria and I did some extensive research on Sebastian Shaw, or Klaus Schmidt, or whatever his name was. I knew him as Klaus Schmidt, but a man on the run obviously has a number of aliases. On day three, Moria and I found something significantly interesting.   
“Maddey.” Moria said. “Come and look at this.”  
I scooted across the floor, which was covered in files and miscellaneous papers. Moria pointed to a list of people that we had assumed that Shaw had killed with his own hands. Her finger was pointing to the L portion of the list. I gasped and dropped my pen to the hardwood floor, where it shattered, and sending ink spiraling in all directions.   
“My God.” I said. “This has to be a mistake.”   
Typed on the paper was the name Lehnsherr, Edie.   
“So that’s why…” I mumbled. “That’s why he wants to kill Shaw so much. He killed his mother.” I shook my head. “I suppose it makes sense.”  
Moria’s eyes were full of sudden understanding. “This is a revenge mission for him.”  
“When does it say she died?” I asked, trailing my finger in s straight line to the ‘estimated year of death’ column. “1944. He had to have been young, then. Very young.”  
“How do you figure that?” Moria questioned.  
“He told me he was born in 1936.”  
She exhaled, in awe of the whole situation. “So that’s why he always seems to be…”  
“Be what?” I asked, suddenly defensive.   
“Brooding. Moody, even.” Moria said. “It’s all falling into place now.”   
“What? About Erik or about Shaw?” I paused and thought for a moment. “Oh my God. Shaw was a Nazi. He worked at Auschwitz. And in 1944…Erik…Erik is…he survived. He always wears long sleeves to cover up the…the tattoo, I bet. Oh my God. Moria.” I said sternly. “You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this. This is clearly some personal information. Do not tell anyone, do you understand?”  
Moria nodded. “I promise. I promise as a friend that I will not tell anyone.”   
“Excellent. I think now would be a good time for a drink break.”  
“Agreed.”   
…  
The next few days went by with virtually no information about Shaw or his counterparts. Moria and I mostly watched movies on TV and read. I finished Hamlet in that time period.   
Erik and Charles returned on a Sunday with one girl and three boys. They all looked like they were in their late teens. I sighed. This was going to be one hell of a ride.   
Charles hugged me then stepped away. “Maddey, Hank, Moria.” Charles said. “I’d like you to meet Angel, Sean, Alex and Darwin.” They all nodded some form of greeting. Thank God they brought back at least one female. “Guys, this is my sister Maddey and her CIA partner, Moria McTaggart. This young gentleman here is Hank McCoy, our engineer.”  
Erik stepped toward me and whispered in my ear, “They’re a handful. Be prepared.”  
I laughed. “I handled Charles growing up. I’m sure I can handle this.”   
Erik moved back and smiled.   
“Well,” Charles said, clapping his hands. “Shall you show them around then, Maddey?”  
I raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”  
Moria and I showed everyone around, where their rooms would be, et cetera. Erik always walked closely, but at a safe distance behind or next to me. I learned that Alex never opens his mouth unless it’s to say something sarcastic or aggressive. I liked him immediately. I also learned that Angel was a very nice girl with a rocking body and a killer sense of humor. Darwin talked very little, but when he did, it was gentlemanly. Sean, on the other hand, spoke often, and said whatever he was thinking. Which was usually something snarky or mean. If he had spoken less, he would have been an incredibly funny guy. Overall, I got along with everyone, as did Charles and Moria. The kids—including Hank—got along like they had been friends all their lives. Those of us who were not minors, on the other hand, were closer to the four of us than we were to the younger kids.   
Those first few days were chaotic, trying to settle everyone down, figure out who everyone really was. Often, Charles, Erik, Moria and I were so exhausted from dealing with the kids that we had to go to sleep at eight or eight thirty, compared to our usual midnight. We all felt like first time parents, and it was perfect. One night, after an exceptionally trying day, I found myself collapsed in an armchair in the library. I had started reading A Christmas Carol in honor of the upcoming holiday, but instead of reading, I felt myself drifting off, my eyes fluttering open and shut.   
When I finally fell asleep, I was struck with the worst nightmare I had had in years.  
I stumbled with my mother and little brother, who was swaddled in her arms, through the mud. Both of our heads were down.  
Don’t make eye contact. They’ll ignore you, then. Then they won’t shoot you.   
Somewhere deep down, we all knew that was bullshit. I was six and I knew it was bullshit.   
We were shoved into a giant concrete room, naked. They had the good grace to keep my brother with my mother when they died.   
The showerheads turned on and everyone screamed. I did not. I held my mother’s hand and shut my eyes. I thought about the freshly baked strudel at our family’s bakery. I thought about the day my little brother, Daniel, was born. The bittersweet yet guilty looks on my parent’s faces that I could not yet understand. I thought about Hanukkah and how it was coming up soon, it was December of 1944. I thought about my seventh birthday that was coming up in May. I thought about our family’s apartment in Munich, and how dusty it must be getting.  
When I opened my eyes, I was the only one still standing.   
I was still holding my Mama’s hand, though she was in a crumpled heap on the floor, still clutching my baby brother with her other arm.   
I screeched. Uniformed women came storming in, calling me a witch, how had I survived? Why aren’t you dead, you whore?  
Fancy that, calling a six year old a whore.   
In hindsight, they must have waited a very long time to enter the chamber. They wouldn’t want to risk dying themselves. I must have been there for a very long time.   
All I could do was scream. My throat hurt. I was ashamed to be naked in front of these mean women. I was much too stunned to cry. Screaming was the only reaction I had. I knew my mother was dead. I knew my brother was dead. But I was positive they wouldn’t have wanted me to cry. So instead, I screamed.   
An older woman entered the room and yelled, “What’s going on?”  
“This girl! This girl has survived!”   
“I will take her to someone I know.” She said. “He will know what to do.”  
I remember opening my eyes for a split second and seeing all the books that were on the shelves splayed open on the floor. I was then yanked back down into the horror I was trying to forget.   
I ran my fingers along the switchboard, looking back through the glass at my father, who was strapped on a gurney. He had long since passed out from the pain. I was six. I was scared to death.   
“I can’t.” I said, looking up at the man. “I can’t.”  
“Ja,” he said. “Yes.”  
My father’s eyes flew open. He saw me and grinned. He mouthed, ‘I love you, Maddey.’   
“Pick the right button, girl.” He said. “You have one minute.”   
I had no idea. There had to have been hundreds of buttons on that switchboard.   
“Read my mind. Pick the correct button.”   
I squinted my eyes. I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I can’t save you, Papa. I can’t save you, Papa. I can’t. Forgive me. Will you still love me? I can’t save you, Papa. I can’t.   
Shutting my eyes completely, I shoved my fingers at one of the buttons.   
Needless to say, it was the wrong one.   
A tall man stormed in and shot my father, point blank, Schmidt pressing my face against the glass.  
“This.” He said, “This is what you get when you fail me.”  
I screamed. I flailed.   
“Don’t do it again.”  
He let go of me and began walking to the door.  
Opening it, he said, “Better luck next time, eh?”   
“MADDEY!” Charles shook me violently “Maddey! Wake up!”  
I stopped screaming just in time to open my eyes to Charles standing directly over me, his eyes diving into mine. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Erik standing closer to the door.  
Shit.   
“Maddey, it’s okay, whatever it is, and it’s over now.” Charles held me to his chest. I felt tears pouring out of my eyes. I was trembling, sweaty, and yet cold all at the same time. The tears were hot on my skin as they dripped from my jawline down my neck. I pulled away from Charles and leaned back in the chair, sniffling. I glanced around me. Everything was broken or shattered and strewn across the floor. I had knocked over or broken everything except for the chair I was sitting in. I gripped the armrests.   
“D-d-did I hurt an-ny-one?” I stuttered.   
“No, love, you didn’t hurt anybody. All the kids went out with Moria as their chaperone, and Erik and I are right here.” Charles turned my face to him and repeated, “Right here.”   
I sensed more than saw Erik step more into the room and reach out his hand, only to drop it back at his side.   
“I’m…wow, I’m sorry about the uh… the…the mess.” I chuckled morbidly to myself. “That hasn’t happened in a while.”   
Charles looked at me, concerned. “No, it hasn’t.”   
I cast my gaze down at my bare feet.   
Charles tucked a piece of damp hair behind my ear. “You don’t want to talk about it, do you, honey?”   
“Well, I feel like somebody else needs an explanation.” I said, casting a wary look at Erik.   
Erik nodded. Charles stood from his crouching position and clapped Erik on the shoulder, giving him a knowing look. When Charles left, I motioned for Erik to sit. He pulled up the chair that was originally opposite me and sat.   
Before I could say anything, Erik said, “Wait.” He rammed his sleeve up his left arm, revealing his camp identification number. I gulped. “This is something you should know about me, before you tell me anything about yourself. I have violent nightmares like that, as well.”  
I exhaled, pushing up the sleeve of my sweater. “Seems like we have something in common.” I said.   
His blue eyes widened. He tensed. “My God. I didn’t know.”  
“Obviously.” I said. “Can I begin now?” He nodded. “I was born in Germany to a Jewish father and a French Romani mother, who converted to Judaism for my father. Even when I was little, I could tell they loved each other a lot. I was their firstborn. We traveled around a lot, considering my mother’s Romani roots. Also we were hiding from the Nazis because, you know, they wanted to kill us. We managed to evade them until late November in 1944. My mother had just had my baby brother while we were in hiding. His name was Daniel.”  
“You were saying his name in your sleep.” Erik interrupted.   
“Was I?” I asked. He nodded. Sighing, I continued. “They sent us to Auschwitz. My father was separated from the three of us immediately. My mother, Daniel, and I were promptly dragged to the…” I swallowed down tears. Don’t cry. You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough today. “We were dragged to the gas chambers.” Shock registered on Erik’s face. “I held one of my mom’s hands as she and my little brother died. For some reason, I survived. I don’t really know why, we assume it has something to do with my mutation.”  
Erik inhaled. “You’re a mutant?”  
“Yes. I can manipulate any other power that I’ve seen done, excluding physical ones. But I’ve always had the telepathy, though I find that method particularly invasive. So what we hypothesize happened is that I saw another mutant who was immortal, or something of that sort. And that’s why I survived. A Nazi woman came into the chamber sometime afterward and dragged me off to…well, to Shaw or Schmidt or whatever his name is. And, seizing the opportunity to manipulate yet another young Jewish child, he tried to harness my power. Very often he would drag people I didn’t know—though once it was my father—onto a gurney and strap them down on one side of a room with glass paneling that cut it in half. There was a switchboard on the side of the room that I was on, and he used to force me to read his mind and pick which button or switch was correct, or else he would have one of his cronies kill the person on the other side.”  
Erik held his head in his hands. I saw a tear slip in between his fingers. “I…me. One of those people was…me. I made him angry one day and he… he strapped me onto that gurney. You saved my life.”   
“Erik.” I breathed. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”  
“How could you have? How could you have recognized me?” He lifted his head. “You know, I knew there was something familiar about you when I saw you for the first time. I couldn’t put a finger on it. But I knew you were important. You are important.”   
At that moment, I really looked at Erik for the first time. His medium brown hair was slightly tousled, his face was blanched. He had those blue-gray-green eyes of his fixed on my brown ones, his mouth parting faintly. It was hardly noticeable. Erik leaned forward on his chair, smoothing his hair back with his hand.   
“I want to tell you.”  
“No.” I articulated harshly. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”  
He shook his head. “You really are uncomfortable around me, aren’t you?”  
“I just told you my life’s story. There are only two people on the planet who know that besides you. I couldn’t possibly be more comfortable.” I said. “I just don’t need to know about your past if that isn’t something you’re not secure with.”   
“I feel as though I am obligated.” Erik said, resting his shoulders on the back of the chair. Damn, did he have an excellent shoulder to waist ratio.   
Shit.   
I breathed out. “Go ahead, then.”


	3. Chaper 3

Erik shifted his position in the chair a tad, and then began. “I was born in Dusseldorf, Germany to two Jewish parents. My father’s name was Jakob, and my mother’s was Edie.”  
Should I tell him? Should I interrupt? Should I tell him I know about his mother?   
I decide against it. Let him get this out. This is difficult, I know.   
“I had a little sister. Her name was Ruth. My world revolved around her. We were sent to Auschwitz in 1944, as well. She was the first one to die. Ruth was shot because when my family and I were being separated, she ran over to my mother, knocking over a Nazi on the way. I don’t know what happened to my father. I searched for him after liberation, but I couldn’t find him. When my mother and I were being torn apart, I…my mutation manifested for the first time. I bent the gates. Shaw saw that from his window and had a soldier bring me up.” Erik started to fiddle with something in his right pants pocket. “He told me to move a coin on the count of three or he would shoot my mother. She kept on telling me that everything was going to be alright, everything was fine.” He removed the item from his pocket.  
It was a German coin, swastika and all.   
“I couldn’t move it.” He said factually. “I couldn’t save her.”   
Usually, if this was a different situation, I would have tried to say something comforting, offer a pat on the shoulder or something. But this was the first time I had met someone else who knew what it was like. I had never met a survivor like myself in my life. I was so numb, yet filled with so much emotion, agony, pain. I was elated that I was not alone, but also extremely saddened that he had gone through something like that too. If I could have borne all of his anguish, every survivor’s anguish, I would have. Just so the rest of them could lead normal lives.   
Instead, I stood from my chair, placed it next to Erik’s, shut the door with my mind, and sat down next to him, so close we were almost touching. He looked up at me.   
“Aren’t you going to pity me?” He asked.  
“Should I?”  
“No.” He said. “I don’t deserve anyone’s pity.”   
I sighed. “Pity is a terrible thing. It makes you feel guilty that people care, but they don’t care enough to do something about it.”   
“That was very profound.”  
“I have my moments.”   
“How do you know what to say all the time?” He questioned.  
“I just say what’s on my mind, is all.” I said. “Sometimes I guess that’s helpful.”   
Erik laughed. “Sean always says what he is thinking, and he’s almost never beneficial.”  
“Well, he’s what? Sixteen or seventeen? And a guy. All you people usually do is mess things up. Chiefly at that age.” I shrugged. “That’s his flaw, I guess.”   
“That’s not true.” Erik said defensively. “Occasionally we can be of a help.”   
“The key word there is ‘occasionally’, Erik.” I said.  
Our laughter rang throughout the stiff air of the room. Smiles fit uncomfortably on Erik. I could tell he didn’t do it too often, or at least he hadn’t. I hoped that that was about to change.   
“Charles really likes you, you know.” I stated. “Thank you for tolerating him. He’s never really had any friends. I’ve been his only friend for quite some time now. He also has some major separation anxiety if we’re apart for more than twenty-four hours. I am genuinely surprised that he made it through those five days you two were gone without calling me.”   
Erik shook his head. “He was talking about you the entire time.”  
“Oh dear God, I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”   
“No, actually.” He said. “It wasn’t. I quite enjoyed hearing him talk about you. I heard about many of your um, exploits, may I say?”  
“Oh Lord. What did he tell you?” I said, worried. This couldn’t be good.  
“Well, Charles said that you did theater in high school?”  
I groaned. “Yes, I did.”  
“He told me that you portrayed Rosemary Clooney’s part in your school’s rendition of White Christmas.”  
I gasped, horrified. “He did not.”  
“He did.” Erik said, laughing quietly. “He also said that you were Belle in the musical version of Beauty and the Beast.”  
“I am going to beat the shit out of that boy.” I said under my breath.   
Erik chuckled. “I don’t see why you’re ashamed of this.”  
“I am not ashamed. I’m just mad at Charles for talking about our high school years. Especially that I did theater! Well did he tell you that he played Danny Kaye’s part in White Christmas? And that he played Cogsworth in Beauty and the Beast?”   
“Charles was an actor?” Erik asked. He raised an eyebrow.  
“He was very proud of it too. Wore the show shirts at least once a week and everything. He attended every drama club meeting and dragged me along.”   
“The both of you must have been very talented to get such large roles.”  
I sniffed. “I’m ninety-eight per cent positive that Charles got into their heads and forced them to give us the parts.”   
“I’m sure he didn’t.” Erik said. “Charles brought along the video camera—why, I don’t know—and showed me a video of one of the opening number of Beauty and the Beast. You’re a very good singer, Maddey.”  
“Good God, I was terrifyingly horrible. You have no idea.”  
Erik set his jaw. “I think you were excellent.”  
“And I think you’re lying. But, to avoid the rest of this topic, I am going to find some food because I am hungry. Today has been draining.”  
“Exceptional.”  
We both stood and walked out of the room and down to the kitchen. It was vacant excluding Charles, who was reading a thick volume of the encyclopedia. I opened the industrial refrigerator and took out a Coca-Cola and an apple, cut into slices. I pushed myself up onto the counter nearest the fridge.  
“What are you reading there, nerd?” I asked Charles.   
Charles said without looking up from his book, “My encyclopedia on genetics from college. I’m trying to see if I can figure out why some people’s mutations are physical and some are not.”  
I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Well why wouldn’t it just be like hair color? Some people have a better chance or a tendency to get one hair color over the other?”   
“Maddey, you are brilliant.” Charles said, snapping his fingers. “So a tendency…but why are those people more likely to have a physical mutation?”  
“Just like if both of your parents have brown hair, you’ve got an almost certain chance that you are going to be a brunette. But you know, you always have those people who overcome the odds and are blond because it runs in the family.”   
Charles thinned his lips into a line. “Sometimes I think you’re the one with the genetics degree.” He said. “You’ve got to stop being so intelligent.”  
“No.” I said, smirking. I thrusted myself off the counter. “I’m going to bed.” I said, kissing Charles on the cheek. “Good night, bro. Good night, Erik.”   
Charles firmly stated, “Good night, love.”  
In contrast, Erik breathily said, “Good night.”   
…  
Despite being physically and emotionally depleted, I slept very little that night. Mostly, I shifted sleeping positions in a cycle. Back, left side, right side, stomach, back. Repeat. Maybe I couldn’t sleep because my subconscious was afraid to after the previous nightmare. Maybe I was thinking about certain people a little too much. Either way, I rolled out of bed at six o’clock on December tenth groggy and ready for a strong cup of coffee. I got dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and threw on my favorite big gray knitted sweater. I wasn’t too focused on my appearance, so I quickly applied mascara in the mirror. I stared at myself. My freckles that were splattered across the bridge of my nose were fading due to the lack of a summer sun. My light brown eyes almost appeared dull in the minimal light of the bathroom’s singular bulb. If this had been natural sunlight, my eyes would have been shimmering, almost. I pushed back my thick, brown curly hair with a headband, and sighed. I was not going to be of much assistance that day.  
When I arrived in the kitchen, every single member of the team was sitting at the middle table, head in hands, or falling asleep. Charles and Erik were the only ones who seemed even remotely awake, though Erik’s eyes were red. Moria already seemed to be done with the day.   
“Well y’all seem energetic today.” I said.   
“Good morning, Maddey.” Charles said, putting down his coffee cup. “So I see you finally decided to get up.”  
“What? Was there I memo I didn’t get?” I asked.  
Charles poured me a cup of coffee and poured in a just a tad of creamer. God, he knew me well. “There was in fact a memo sent out. Well, it was more like I telepathically communicated with everyone and-.”  
I interrupted him. “I obviously didn’t get it then. You can’t get inside my head, remember? I am very good at shutting you out. And you promised me you’d never do that.”   
Charles intertwined his arm with mine and offered me his seat, opposite Erik. I sat, and Charles pushed himself up on the counter where I was the night before. Erik shot me a pair of bloodshot eyes.  
“I couldn’t sleep last night.” He whispered.  
“Me neither.” I whispered back.  
“I was thinking about-.”   
Erik was cut off by Charles, who began to speak in a strict, booming voice. “Alright, Erik, Moria and I would like to inform you that we’ve got a lead on Shaw.”  
Every head in the room shot up.   
“But only Erik, Moria and I are going.”  
Protestations immediately were spat from everyone’s mouth. I shoved my chair aggressively back from the table. “How could you not tell me about this?” I yelled. “The three of you are going to go after him and I have to sit here and worry about whether or not you’re dead? How is that fair? You know I want to find Shaw as much as Erik!”  
Charles extended a hand. “Maddey, calm down. Someone should be here to watch the kids. And they all like you. Besides, this is an opportunity to-.”  
“Opportunity to what? Wait quietly here while you guys are doing all the dirty work?”  
Darwin piped up. “She has a point, you know.”  
“See?” I said, motioning with my hand to Darwin.  
“Maddey.” Erik said, standing. “We didn’t have a chance to tell you last night because of the incident. That’s what we were in that room to tell you. I don’t think it’s fair, either, but this may be our only shot.”  
I exhaled, calming down a little. Erik’s tone of voice subsided my anger, though I was still seething. “Fine.” I spat.   
“Thank you for understanding, love.” Charles said, placing a light kiss on my forehead. “Now, the three of us must pack and get ready to go immediately.”   
Moria, Erik and Charles left the room. Erik slung a knowing glance back at me and I scowled, meaning for it more to be a smile, but I was still too pissed to think straight.  
“Don’t you think they should at least tell us where they’re going?” Sean asked.   
I huffed. “I’m going to bet that it’s confidential.”  
“Wait, but aren’t you second in command of this whole thing?” Alex questioned, brandishing his hand.   
“Yes.” I answered. “But because I’m not first, they don’t have to tell me shit.”   
Angel scoffed. “That’s crap. You should know about this sort of thing.”  
“You’d think they would have the guts to tell me.” I said.   
Darwin stood, with the other four following suit. “Well, if those old farts are going to be gone, how about we go to the break room? That’s the only fun room in this joint.”  
“Am I invited to this break room?” I asked. “Or am I considered an old fart?”  
“No! Come on, girl, you’re the most fun person around.” Angel exclaimed.   
We all strolled out of the kitchen and into the break room, which was a large room with a pinball machine, a record player, and a number of seating options, with one wall made entirely out of glass, overlooking the courtyard.   
“Welcome to our domain.” Darwin said, walking backwards with his arms spread wide.   
Angel sat down on the far sofa and patted the cushion next to her for me to sit down. As I sat, everyone else kind of settled into place. I could tell that there was a rhythm to this. Hank sat down next to me, which I was fine with because Hank and I were rather good friends, seeing as we had worked on the original ideas for Cerebro together. Opposite Hank sat Alex, then Sean, then Darwin. Sean rumpled his ginger curls with his fingers.   
“So,” Sean said. “What brings you to the CIA?”  
“Do you want the run-of-the-mill bullshit answer or the real one?” I asked.  
“The legit one.” He replied.   
“I joined the CIA because I enjoy seeing the bad guys get taken down, by whatever means necessary. I needed excitement, adventure, travel. The CIA gave me that.”   
“Wow.” Angel said. “That was passively bad ass.”  
“Thank you.” I said, smiling.   
We spent about thirty minutes laughing and making fun of each other before there was a loud rapping at the door.  
“Maddey?” I heard Erik say.   
“Come in!”   
Erik opened the door. “Can I speak with you for a second?” He paused. “Privately?”  
“Sure.” I said, standing. I walked toward Erik, and we stepped out into the hallway. I silently shut the door behind me.  
“Charles sends his sincerest goodbyes.” Erik said.  
“He told you to say that, didn’t he?”  
Erik smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “Yes, he did.” He hesitated a moment. “But I came to say goodbye in person. I figured that was the least that you deserved.”  
“Thank you.” I said.  
“You know, perhaps it is better that you don’t go. Charles would be worried about you the whole time. He wouldn’t be able to get anything done.”   
“He would worry about me either way.”  
“I couldn’t be able to focus either.” He said. He quickly elaborated, feeling he had said too much. “I mean, with my only two friends in the world at risk of being killed at any moment.”   
“Right. And besides, the kids need somebody to look after them. If I wasn’t here, they would probably be setting the place on fire.”  
Erik retorted, “I wouldn’t be shocked if they did.”  
At that moment, we shared the only uncomfortable silence in our entire friendship up until that point. The quiet seemed to say so much and yet nothing at all.   
“You should go, Erik.” I said. “If you have the opportunity, tell him Maddey Liebling sends her regards.”  
“I will.”


	4. Chapter 4

On the third day of the trio’s absence, the rest of us were all utterly bored. We had done everything there was to do in that compound. Most days you could find us sprawled out on the couches or on the floor of the break room, watching television or just talking. I grew fond of everyone on the team, especially Angel. It was nice to have another girl besides Moria around. I never really ever had any friends that were girls, so this was a good change. Hank and I had been friends previously, so it came as no shock that we got along well. Alex seemed to have opened up more when I was around, evidently, according to everyone else. Sean and Darwin were closer to Alex than Angel and I was, though.   
So on the third night, Alex and Darwin were playing pinball in the corner, Sean was talking with Hank about something and laughing like an idiot, and Angel and I were sitting next to each other on the sofa and giggling about girl stuff. God, it was great to have another friend that was a girl. All of us simultaneously jerked when we heard a loud bang from a few rooms away.   
“What was that?” Alex asked, standing up. “Do you think they’re back?”   
“I don’t think so.” I said.  
Angel rose from her position on the couch, with me following suit. She cocked an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. Maybe someone just hit a wall or…  
Suddenly, a man fell from the sky and we all instantly ran towards one another, and we ended up in a clump near the middle of the room. An entirely red man with a tail—clearly a mutant—appeared in a cloud of red mist on the opposite side of the glass wall and smirked. Another person fell from above and Sean screamed, shattering the glass partition. The door to the break room opened softly, and in walked the last person in the world I had expected or wanted to see. Everyone else had an expression of confusion on their face, whereas I was terrified. I clenched my hands into fists, only to release them. Don’t let him know you’re scared.  
“Ah, Maddey Liebling. It is a pleasure.” Shaw said. He went to remove his strange helmet but then dropped his hands, thinking better of it. He tapped it with his index finger. “Better keep this on, right Maddey? Wouldn’t want you getting inside my head.”  
“Believe me, I don’t want to.” I growled.   
He stepped closer to our group. “So, who are these bright young things? Are you training them?” He got precariously close to me, so close I could feel his body heat. For some reason I didn’t yet understand, it was pulsating. “You are, aren’t you? What a joy. You seem to have taken my job, haven’t you, dear?”  
“I don’t kill people for the fun of it.” I stated.   
“Ah, yes.” He whispered. Raising his voice back to a normal level, he said, “I apologize for what happened in the camps. I was only trying to help you.”  
“You killed my father.”  
He grinned. “No, darling. You did that.”   
I gritted my teeth. Don’t listen to him, it’s not true. Atmen. Breathe. He is doing this to get a reaction. You know that. You know how he works, Maddey. He’s just manipulating you.  
“Why are you here?” I questioned, taking a taunting step forward.  
“Well, my intuitive Maddey, I have come for some fresh blood. New recruits, if you will.” The devil looking man stepped over the room’s now broken partition and walked over to Shaw, whispering something in his ear. Shaw pressed his lips into a thin line.   
Alex began to vault forward to attack Shaw, but I stopped him with my arm. “Don’t. He’s not worth it, Alex.”   
“Quite on the contrary, my pet. I have a very strong sense of self-worth and I’d rather you not ruin it.” He paused to take a breath. “But, I did not come all the way here to talk about myself, did I, Azaezel?” So his name was Azaezel. How disgusting. It even sounded hellish. “I came here to urge you to join the correct side. My fellow mutants, why fight for a species who despises you? A people you must hide your true selves from? Because they are afraid of you, they will exterminate you. Come with me, brothers and sisters. I will teach you the proper way, show you the correct path. How to really become who you are.”  
Angel stepped away from us and towards Shaw.  
We all gasped. The shock was practically perceptible. I started to feel the color quickly draining from my face. I felt my heart betting against my ribcage and I grasped onto the crook of Hank’s elbow, steadying myself.  
“Angel, no.” Sean pleaded.  
“What? He’s right. We shouldn’t have to hide. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”  
“Please, Angel.” I breathed. “You don’t know who he is, what he’s done.”  
Shaw answered, “She will learn that in due time.”  
The three of them stepped out of the room and into the courtyard. I was vaguely aware of Darwin stepping out there with them, Alex following closely behind. Darwin shouted something and Alex used his mutation, his energy rings automatically soaked up by Shaw. Hank lurched forward, but moved back, remembering that I was still clinging helplessly to his arm.   
Shaw trembled. “Protecting your fellow mutants? That’s a noble gesture. Feels good.” Darwin threw a punch at Shaw, only for him to block it and grab Darwin by the throat saying, “Adapt to this.”   
Shaw let go of Darwin and evaporated with Angel and Azaezel. Darwin tried to change his forms several times. We were all frozen to the spot, jaws hanging open, not believing what was happening. Darwin began to shake and reached a hand out to Alex, and then imploded into a pile of smoldering dust. Alex screamed, Hank began to cry, and I felt myself becoming more and dizzier. I exhaled, letting go of Hank’s arm, watching the world sway around me.  
I promptly fainted.  
I welcomed the warm, enveloping blanket of forced slumber.   
…  
I woke up drenched in sweat, lying on a makeshift bed in the lobby, the only remaining part of the compound. Hank was sitting next to me reading, and Sean and Alex were a little farther away, talking in hushed voices.   
“Is everybody okay?” I croaked.   
“Maddey!” Hank exclaimed. “Thank God you’re alright.”  
I sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are they home yet?”  
“No, but they should be soon.” Alex replied.  
An official looking man approached us and said something along the lines of, ‘Get out of here, kids, we’re trying to clean this shit up.’   
Everyone rose and we walked outside, sitting down on the concrete bench by the sidewalk. We all sat in silence, hanging our heads, having a half-assed vigil for the loss of Darwin. I shut my eyes. What were we going to do? Personally, I couldn’t just send these kids back home. Many of them didn’t have a home to go back to.   
I heard a car door slam and I raised my head. Charles was rushing towards me, arms spread wide. He was very worried, I could tell. Trailing my brother was Erik, with an equally concerned expression on his face.   
He had been running at me, but stopped when Charles got there first.   
“Maddey.” Charles said, embracing me as I stood. He muttered in my ear, “We got a call when we arrived at the airport that something had happened. Are you all right?”   
“Yes, I’m fine.” I breathed.   
“We are sending all of you home immediately.” Charles stated, addressing the group.   
A chorus of protests arose from the kids. Charles attempted to hush them, but I heard a voice pipe up. Then Sean said, “And he isn’t going back to prison.”   
“Darwin is dead, Charles.” I said. “And we can’t even bury him.”  
I was hazily conscious of Erik and others speaking, but I was too lost in my own thoughts. Shaw was here. Shaw had spoken to me. He had looked me in the eye. He had convinced Angel to go with him. He was building an army. He was willing to cause World War Three just to get what he wanted. I puffed out air. Why didn’t you kill him, you moron? Good God, why didn’t you shoot him? It would have been satisfying, to say the least. Subconsciously, I thought that task to be Erik’s. He had been chasing Shaw most of his life. He deserved that satisfaction more than I did. But nevertheless, I was still ridden with regret for not killing him when I had the chance.  
Hank said something about having nowhere to go. A long pause ensued.   
“Yes, we do.” I said, barely audible. I shuffled to Charles. “Yes, we do.”  
Charles was taken aback. “What? You don’t think…”  
“It’s our only option. Besides, there is more than enough space.”  
Erik furrowed his eyebrows. “What place are we talking about?”  
“Our house.” I said, throwing a glance at Charles. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a house, per say. It’s more of, um, an estate.”  
“Is everyone fine with this?” Charles asked. “If you’re not comfortable, feel free to leave.”  
No one moved.  
“It’s settled, then.” Charles said.  
…  
The rest of that day was spent with everyone in their rooms, attempting to salvage what was left of our belongings. I still had all of my books and most of my clothes. It was really only the furniture that had any damage. When I was done packing, I took a good look around my room. It wasn’t really my room, just a temporary resting place. I never really spent much time in it. It was a bare room, and not very homey. Maybe that was because I was used to the Mans.   
“Maddey?”  
I rotated to see Erik standing in my doorway.   
“Oh. Hey, Erik.”  
“Hello.” He said. “I just wanted to tell you that Charles and I were shown the security footage. From the night Shaw was here.”  
“Oh.” I murmured.   
He stepped a little further into my room. “Are you positive that you’re okay? I saw you faint. I should have known that Shaw was going to pull something like that…”  
“Erik, I’m fine.” I said. “Seriously. There is nothing wrong with me.”  
He sighed. “Good.”  
…  
We arrived at the Mans the next day.  
“Honestly, Charles.” Erik said. “I don’t know how you survived in such hardship.”  
I stepped towards Charles. “Well, it was a hardship softened by me. Come on. Time for the tour.”  
Everyone seemed to be in awe of the sheer size of the mansion. Charles and I tried to explain that half of it was closed off anyway, but nevertheless, their eyes were wide the whole tour. Charles seemed to find it amusing, whereas I was embarrassed. Now they would all think I had always lived happily, in a humungous house with a loving family. Which was incorrect, because even when I lived with Charles’s parents, his mother was abusive and a drunk, and his step-father neglected him. Besides, the house had been in the family for years. The Xavier family had nowhere to go, anyway. Not that they couldn’t have afforded a chateau in France or something, but it was a broken family. There was no affection in this house.  
“Um, well.” I finished. “Charles’s room is at the end of the left main hallway, if you’re facing the foyer. My bedroom is in the same spot, just in the right main hallway. And you all know where the kitchen is, so everybody should be set.”  
The boys—excluding Erik and Charles—went to go pick bedrooms. Charles cleared his throat and nudged Moria underneath the ribs.   
“Moria, may I speak with you quickly?”   
Moria agreed, and the two of them went down to the kitchen. Good Lord, she was head over heels for my brother. He was blind to it, as usual. He had an enviable list of women he had charmed, but he could never tell which ones actually cared for him. Charles had very few flaws that he let show, and he obliviously flew that one like an American flag.   
“This house is very overwhelming, isn’t it?” Erik asked.  
“Hm? Oh, yeah. I felt the same way when I first moved in.”  
“Charles doesn’t seem to like it here.” Erik said. “Obviously this place has a history.”  
I chuckled. “A long one.”  
“I guess we’ve all got our own share of troubles.”  
“Some people more than others.” We didn’t speak for a moment. Erik was clearly waiting for a different answer.  
“So you’re not going to tell me why Charles doesn’t like it here?”  
“He’ll tell you.” I said. “I mean, you guys are best friends, so, that would be something to maintain the trust in the friendship or whatever.”  
“Ah.”   
Ah, Maddey Liebling. It is a pleasure.  
I shuddered. Breathe, breathe. Every little thing cannot set you off.  
“Maddey?” Erik said, head tilted to the side. “Do you want to go read or something?”  
“I thought you’d never ask.”   
Erik, Charles and I spent the next week or so planning out how we were going to train these kids, how we were going to help them. Charles and Erik would frequently play chess and have extended talks about society, while I sat and read in the same room. At the time I didn’t know why they couldn’t function unless I was around, but that was true for everybody. I was practically the mom of the group. I gave out advice when asked, I cooked dinner and mediated arguments. Moria occasionally pitched in with the whole cooking thing, but mostly she stayed in her room. I don’t know what she did up there, but whenever she came down, she was actually a great help. That is one of Moria’s defining qualities. She is incredibly helpful.   
When Charles would spend time with Moria, in between having those long talks with Erik and training the kids, Erik and I would commence almost regular reading sessions in the library. It was nice to have someone around who was okay with not speaking. That was something Charles never got, he always had to have noise. That could be because of his extroverted personality, compared to Erik and I’s introverted dispositions.   
Before I knew it, Hanukkah rolled around and I was searching the house for the menorah. I even had to go into the basement, which I wasn’t a fan of.   
“Have you found it yet?” Charles called.  
“No!” I replied. “I can hardly see down here. I keep on running into boxes.”  
“Here.” Said Charles, tossing down a flashlight.   
I caught it and flipped it on. The light was powerful, and I found the menorah sitting on top of a large stack of books. I snatched it up and threw the flashlight back to Charles, handing him the menorah on my way up the cellar ladder. The candles were already placed in the holders. We made our way into the library/study and placed it on the table next to the Christmas tree. We both heard Erik’s footsteps draw closer as he entered the room. Charles and I met eyes and exchanged a knowing look. I nodded, and Charles excused himself.   
“I haven’t celebrated Hanukkah with someone else since…” Erik trailed off. He came closer to me, finally standing next to me, looking at the menorah. “Maddey, you’re a telepath, right? You can access people’s um, memories, yes?”   
“Yes.” I paused. “Look, I haven’t read your mind if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t plan to.” I narrowed my eyes. “You want me to.”  
“Well, the other day Charles did something. He… he brought back something beautiful I had forgotten about. I was wondering if you could do the same.”  
“I’m not as confident as Charles is messing around in people’s heads.” I stated. “Not that I couldn’t, but I’m always afraid that I’m going to hurt someone.”  
“I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.” Erik said.  
“It’s been awhile. I’m sorry, but-.”  
“I believe in you.” Erik interjected. “And besides, isn’t that what this is all about? Challenging ourselves and testing our limits?”  
I shook my head. “Like I said, not when it involves hurting people.”   
“Like I said, you’re not going to hurt me. I promise.”  
“Yeah, but I can’t.”  
Erik’s eyes softened. He clenched his fists, released them, and then repeated the pattern a few times. So he really did want me to do that. It didn’t make much sense to me, I hated having people inside of my head, though that only happened once with Charles when we first met.   
Well, there goes nothing.  
“Okay.” I said. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. Especially Charles. He wouldn’t be able to shut up about it.”  
Erik nodded. I didn’t realize it then, but Erik was beginning to open up to people again, to let them in. Like me, he didn’t trust openly. We were both very cynical people. We had seen too much. But he was ready to let somebody break down his walls again, and that was rare. I suddenly felt bad for rejecting him earlier. He was trying to remember his mother. That was something I understood.  
I rested my left hand on the table, and let the other dangle at my side. I didn’t need to touch my temple like Charles. I locked eyes with Erik and prepared myself.


	5. Chapter 5

Reading someone’s mind is kind of like working through a maze, where each section is a different color. Erik’s was predominantly gray. There were a few parts that were brighter, and I was aiming for those. I had to push my way through a few ugly memories before I found what he was looking for.   
I entered a yellow part of his memory system. I watched as Erik, a little girl who was his sister, I assumed, and his father all crowded around a dinner table on what must have been a Sabbath. Food was still spread about the table, but Erik was tickling his sister, and his mother and father were speaking in hushed tones. His parents smiled, then turned their attention back to their children. Testing both of our boundaries, I pressed on past that memory, farther into his mind. This time, I must have skipped forwards a few years. This memory was red. Two people sat in a clean cut library—  
“I’m sorry.” I said, withdrawing from his mind.   
“No, no.” He said. “It’s fine. You gave me more than I could have asked for.”  
“Well, I didn’t mean to push you-.”  
“It’s fine.” He smiled down at his hands. “You know, you’re much less… how do I put this? You’re more careful when you enter a mind. Charles dives right in and crashes through every memory, finding the one he needs. You…you picked through carefully. You tried not to touch the bad things. Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
“Shall we light the menorah?”  
“Oh, yeah, right.” I said. “It’s Hanukkah.”  
“Happy Hanukkah, by the way.” Erik said.  
“Happy Hanukkah.”  
Erik lit the menorah, and I bit the inside of my cheek, something I usually did when I was thinking. Why did he want me to do it? If Charles had already been inside his head, why not him? Was it because of the whole ‘diving’ thing? Did he think Charles wouldn’t understand? Why did he want me to see this? Did he trust me now? Had he already trusted me?   
“What’s it like?” Erik asked.  
“Being inside someone’s head? Weird. Really weird. You always want to be careful, but sometimes it doesn’t work that way. That’s why I was afraid that I was going to hurt you. I know what it’s like to have somebody accidently hurt you when they’re messing around up there. It’s not fun. It’s like getting hit in the head with a baseball bat.”  
“No I meant…” He made a motion around his head. “Up there. In my head.”  
I bit the inside of my cheek again. “Well, I like to think of brains like mazes that are very complex, and each chapter or section of your life is a different color. Yours was mostly gray. But there were a couple spots in there that were very bright, Erik. Very bright. At the very beginning of your maze, it was a vibrant yellow. That’s where I was. For a while after that, it was gray. Somewhere in the middle there was some red, and then a long stretch of gray again. The very last part was yellow, with a red tinge at the end.”  
“How do I compare to other minds you’ve been in?”  
“I’ve really only been in Charles’s for an extended amount of time. His is yellow, mostly. There are a couple dark spots in there. I’ve also found that the more intelligent the person, the more complicated their brain maze is. Charles’s is very hard to navigate through.”  
“I’m sure yours would be, too.”  
“That’s because I’m good at shutting people out.”  
Erik laughed. “You really have no idea when someone is complementing you, do you?”  
“No. Nor am I good at accepting criticism.”   
“I was attempting to compliment your intellect.”  
“I see that now.” I said. “If it makes you feel any better, I had a hard time making my way through your head.”  
Erik moved back a little. “I was trying to block you from seeing certain things.”  
“Why?” I wavered. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you willing for me to reach that far back, but you had to block out certain things? Certain memories, I mean.”  
“I’m not ready for you to see some things yet. And not everything was a memory. There were thoughts, too.” He said.  
“Oh.” I realized I had still been clinging to the table. I pulled my hand away, and my knuckles were white. “You know that I’m not going to judge you, right? No matter what you’ve done. I get the whole privacy thing, though. I won’t make you tell me anything you don’t want to, Erik.”  
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”  
I tipped my head to the side. “Wait, you said that Charles was in your head?”  
“Yes.” Erik replied.   
“Did he tell you that he thought that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity?” He nodded. “Oh my God! Finally, he’s been waiting years to tell that to someone.”  
Erik laughed. “It did sound rehearsed.”   
“He thought of that while writing his thesis paper in college. He got so frustrated that he started spewing out random philosophical quotes.” I looked at Erik and sighed. “You know how he does that when he gets angry.”  
“He is a strange man.”  
“You’re telling me.”  
Erik thinned his lips. “Have the two of you always lived together?”  
“Ever since we were seven. I mean, sometimes we would be separated because of my work, but mostly we haven’t left each other’s sides since second grade. That’s why I’m so glad that the two of you are friends now. He’s an extrovert, you know. They need lots of friends.”  
“Well you deserve friends too, Maddey.” He said.  
“I have friends.” I retorted defensively. “I have Charles and Moria and you and Hank.”  
“Again, that was meant to be a compliment.”  
“Good God I am bad at this.” I said, laughing. “Conversations, I mean. Perks of being an introvert.” I heard a yell from the kitchen and knew it was Charles. “Well, sisterly duty calls.”  
Erik made a mental cue that he was okay with me leaving. I walked out of the study and across the foyer to the kitchen. After I entered, Charles slammed the door shut. He took me by the shoulders and dragged me over to the pantry, shoving me in and after he entered, he shut the pantry door. Charles ran his fingers through his hair.  
He exhaled angrily. “Maddey, I cannot believe you.”  
“What?” I asked. “What did I do?”  
“He was flirting with you, you dimbo!” He face palmed. “Ugh! And for someone as introverted as him, flirting with a girl who exudes confidence like you...”  
“I beg your pardon, but he was doing nothing of the sort.”  
“Are you blind?!? He was practically screaming ‘notice me! Notice me!’ And you know what you did? You shut him down, just like you do everyone else.”  
“Well excuse me Mr. Observant, but if you haven’t noticed, Moria likes you. That’s right. She likes you. Really likes you.”  
“Erik let you into his mind! You know how hard it was for me to do that?!?”  
I groaned. “You’re being ridiculous.”  
“Oh, but I’m not. We men know when somebody likes a girl and it is obvious.”  
“Same with Moria, Charles!” I paused. “How did you even hear us talking?”  
“The door to the study was open, and so was the door to the kitchen.”  
“You bastard, you were eavesdropping!”  
The next few things we screamed at each other were said simultaneously. We were trying to outdo one another in volume and painfulness of the comment. I ended up knocking a box of corn bread mix off one of the shelves before Moria flung open the door to the pantry, Erik standing a few feet behind her, his hands in his pockets.  
“What do you think you are doing?” She asked, putting her hands on her hips.  
“Moria, please, we were just bickering over something petty.” Charles said.  
I scoffed. “That’s not how you made it out to be.”  
“Look, the two of you need to come out of the pantry, please.” Moria stated.  
“To be honest Moria, this is where we’ve always fought.” I said. “Anywhere else in the house you can hear everything.”  
“Just come out of the pantry, please.”  
Charles and I stepped out. “Moria?” I asked. “How did you know we were in there?”  
“I walked into the study and asked Erik if he knew where you were, and he said that you were in the kitchen with Charles, and when I walked in here I heard the two of you arguing.” Moria took me by the wrist. “Which reminds me, I have something to tell you.”  
I followed Moria out of the kitchen, through the foyer, and to the right wing where she opened the door next to mine and gestured for me to enter. I did so, and Moria came in afterwards, shutting the door behind her. She popped her jaw.  
“I got a call from the Pentagon.”  
“Oh?” I said. She had piqued my interest.   
I sat on the bed. Moria sat on the nearest chair. “Yes.” She said. “Now keep in mind that all of this is confidential.”  
“Of course.” I replied.  
“Well, when Charles and Erik and I were in Russia, we captured Emma Frost. She’s Shaw’s right hand woman. Charles and Erik got some information about Shaw’s plans from her, but other than that she hasn’t been cooperating. They brought her back to a secret compound back here in the states.” Moria pursed her lips. “She escaped.”  
“No.” I whispered. “Do have they have any idea where she might have gone to?”  
“No. You can’t tell this to Charles or Erik. Definitely not Erik. He’d just mess everything up. Like I said, this is confidential.”  
“Right.” I said. “So are we supposed to go after her?”  
“I haven’t gotten that call yet.” Moria muttered.   
“But you’ll tell me when you do get it?”  
Moria smiled and rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”  
The next few weeks passed by with virtually nothing eventful. Of course there was Christmas and Hanukkah and New Year’s Eve, but other than that, nothing much happened. At the end of February we celebrated Moria’s birthday. March mostly consisted of training five days a week and resting on the weekends, always sore, constantly exhausted, but enjoying every minute of it. Looking back, the spring of 1962 might have been the best I have ever experienced. It was the most fun, by far. I usually spent my springs locked up in my room while it rained.  
The beginning of April was Erik’s birthday, which he said he’d like to have it pass without a fuss, and with no presents, so I listened and didn’t get him anything. Charles, on the other hand, did get him a gift and then made me feel guilty about not buying him anything. He still wasn’t letting me live down the whole quote ‘flirting incident’ from December. He brought it up every chance he got. My birthday was in early May and Charles made a huge deal of it, as usual. He decorated the Mans, made me breakfast in bed, bought me presents, and made everyone sing happy birthday to me. Charles was really the only one who seemed to enjoy that activity. That evening, I was sitting in the library, reading a book in the armchair next to the fire, when I heard the door squeak open and shut.  
“Happy birthday, Maddey.” Erik said, sitting in the chair next to me.  
“Thanks. Charles is more excited about it than I am, though.”  
Erik crossed his legs. “So you’re twenty-four now, yes?”  
“Yeah, twenty-four. Another year closer to thirty.”  
“I’m closer than you are.” He said, chuckling.   
“Nevertheless.” I said.   
I shut my book and shoved it in between the cushion of the chair and the armrest. Erik was clenching and releasing his fists again. He did that when he got nervous, I later realized.  
“So.” Erik started, clearing his voice. “Charles was the only one who got you something for your birthday, right?”  
“Yeah.” I replied.  
“Good.” He said, smirking. “At least now I know what I’ve got for competition.”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
Erik dug around in the drawer of the table next to him, and removed a wrapped item. “I got you something.”  
“Erik, you really didn’t have to-.”  
“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve something.”  
“I already got stuff from Charles.”  
“I know that.” Erik said, handing me the gift. “But I still wanted to get you something.”  
I took the present and began to unwrap it. It was smaller in size, but neatly wrapped. The tape was perfectly lined up with everything. I recall that being oddly satisfying, that someone had put that much effort into wrapping something so small that I was just going to open anyway. Everything was symmetrical and in place.  
It was a color picture of Erik and me, standing on the concrete walkway on the east side of the Mans. Both of us were caught off guard by the picture, but we were laughing at each other. I remember when Charles took that picture. He told me later that he couldn’t throw it away because of the way Erik was looking at me.  
“Erik, I…I thought Charles threw this away.”  
“I found it in a pile of photos he had stacked on the table in the kitchen. I figured he wouldn’t miss just one.” Erik said.  
“Ah, stealing things to give to someone else. What an honorable gesture.”  
Erik laughed quietly and shook his head. “You said that you didn’t want anyone to spend money on you for your birthday. I mean, I bought the frame. But that’s the only thing that I spent money on, I promise.”  
“Thank you, Erik. This is better than anything Charles gave me. Well, that could be because he got me a Spanish to English dictionary and a book by Albert Einstein, but hey.”  
I wasn’t quite sure what to do after that. At the time, I was planning on hugging him but I wasn’t exactly sure what the reaction would be on that. So I hesitated, and the moment was interrupted by a meddlesome brother who came stumbling into the library.   
“Oh.” Charles said. “Was there a conversation going on?”  
Erik shot Charles a look that probably could have killed him if glances could. I like to think that spending time around me improves people’s death glares. I throw a mean side-eye.  
“Well, there isn’t anymore, so what do you need?” I asked Charles.  
“I was going to inquire as to the whereabouts of your copy of Anthem by Ayn Rand?”  
I huffed. “It’s on the nightstand in Hank’s room.”  
Erik whipped his head around and hissed, “How did you know that it was in Hank’s room?”   
Charles worked his way into the room, grabbing a chair from the opposite side of the room and sitting it next to mine. “Yes, little sister.” He said, returning a killer look to Erik. “How do you know that it is on his bedside table?”  
“Because I was in there.” Both of them were taken aback. “No, oh my God not like that, Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”  
“How do I know you’re not lying to us, sister? How do I know?”  
I sighed. “Hank is not interested.”  
Erik let his voice be heard. “How can he not be interested I mean look at…” he stopped mid-sentence.   
“Oh, are you jealous?” I asked. “Well, it’s not warranted because I know for a fact that he’s not interested.”  
They both tilted their heads. Erik’s jaw clenched.  
“I’ve kind of been sworn to secrecy on this one, guys.”  
Charles leaned forward in his chair.  
“Can’t you not guess?”  
“Obviously not.” Erik spat.  
I whispered through gritted teeth, “Hank is gay.”  
Both of their jaws dropped.   
“And he told you?” Charles asked. “You?”  
“Is that so hard to believe? Am I not trustworthy? And besides, he’s gay, he’s like, contractually obligated to have a girl best friend.” I looked at the two of them. “Not that I think that either of you are… Screw it. Well, this has been adequately discomforting.” I stood up and started to leave, grabbing my photo off the table. Before I did, I said, “Do not tell anyone. Anyone, do you hear?”  
They both nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Five Months Later  
It was October, and the news still hadn’t gotten out—as far as I knew—about Hank. Erik still continued to throw the boys dirty looks whenever any of them came near me. I was concurrently both flattered and pissed off. Though he didn’t start tossing glances until…Well, in summary, he had a nightmare and I agreed to stay in his room. Nothing happened, but evidently this is something you do not do if you’re trying not to lead someone on.  
On October 19th, our house phone rang. Charles, Erik, Moria and I were sitting in the kitchen playing an intense game of BS. Charles rose from his seat and picked up the phone.   
“Hello? Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Anything we can do. Thank you. Yes, yes. Thank you.”  
“So?” I asked. “What was that all about?”  
“Four fives.” Moria said.  
“Bullshit.”  
“Screw you.”  
Charles cleared his throat. “They’ve got another lead on Shaw.”  
Everyone dropped their cards.  
“They think he’s going to be in Cuba. Near where the Russian and American Navy’s are supposed to be about starting World War Three.” Charles folded his hands together. “They’ve called Erik and I to go.”  
“Again?” I groaned. “I don’t feel very useful just sitting around the Mans all day, you know.” I put all the cards together and shuffled them. I’m horrible at shuffling.  
“Either way, Erik and I are going. We leave in the morning.”  
True to his word, Charles and Erik left at dawn the next morning. Neither of them bothered to wake me up to say goodbye.  
For two days, all anyone did was sit around the Mans. It was strange, with two of our members gone. There was definitely a palpable absence in the house.   
At night on the eleventh, I was just about ready to get into my pajamas when I heard a very loud thump come from outside. I ran down the stairs and through the foyer and outside, throwing on my bomber jacket on the way out.   
To say that I was shocked to see an airplane in my yard was an understatement.   
A man and a woman came strutting out of the plane. The man fixed the lapels on his jacket and fixed his eyes on me.   
I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head.  
Shaw. Shaw. Shaw. Shaw.  
They were wrong. They were wrong again.   
How could the CIA make two mistakes this big in one mission?  
I bit my bottom lip in an effort to not pass out. I tasted blood very quickly.   
“Hello, Maddey.” He took my chin in between his index finger and thumb and tweaked it. “It really is wonderful to see one of my prodigies again.” He paused. “Ah! Where are my manners? Maddey, this is Emma Frost. She will be assisting you on this splendid adventure.”  
“I don’t think I’d like to go anywhere with you, thank you very much.” I said.  
“Oh, don’t worry, honey.” Emma said. “I’m good company.”  
Shaw shifted his helmet around on his head, leaning in towards Emma to say, “Darling, I do think we better make this quick. The others will be coming down the stairs any minute now.”  
“Don’t you want to recruit them?”  
“No. We came for her.”  
The entire time, I was thinking, strangle him you idiot, hit him or something. You could fight the Emma girl off, Maddey. You’ve fought worse.   
But I was glued to the ground. Another part of me said that this was Erik’s job. I knew he wouldn’t want me to get hurt, but he had dedicated most—if not all—of his adult life to this. I had tried to move on, he still lived in the 40’s. His world was fueled by the hunger for revenge.  
The teleporter appeared next to Shaw. “Are you ready, sir?” He asked in a thick Russian accent.   
“Yes.” Shaw said with a grin. “We’re ready.”  
Azaezel, I think, grabbed me by my forearm before I had a chance to beat him off, and we teleported back by the airplane. Emma pulled something out of her coat pocket and tossed it by the plane, and just before we teleported again, I saw the airplane explode, sending debris flying in through the windows of the house.   
I must have passed out sometime during this period, because when I woke up, I was strapped with my back against a thick metal pole. My wrists and ankles were bound, but my mouth was not gagged. I looked to my left side and saw a note written in linear handwriting.

Maddey,  
I know you’re thinking about screaming. I know you.  
You will have plenty of time for that later, dear.  
Yours Truly,  
Klaus Schmidt  
I wiggled my wrists and feet around, trying to get loose. I tried untying them with my mind, but I heard a female voice behind me say, “When someone is sleeping—or in your case, blacked out—their mind is more susceptible to attack. I’ve hijacked your mind so you can’t untie your bonds. I’ve got some information that I need to get out of you before I can let you loose.”

 

Meanwhile, Erik and Charles arrive back at the Mans, fully expecting me to be there. They are much more than pained to learn that I have been kidnapped by Shaw. I hear that Erik threw some things and flipped a table, but that could be Sean over exaggerating. Anyway, they were worried and furious. Also, they were frightened. I would have to say because Shaw broadcasted a torture session every 14 hours over the television at the Mans. Hank still can’t figure out how he did that. 

 

Emma pointed up at a camera hanging on the ceiling, placed neatly in a crook between the wall and the ceiling. “Do you see that? That is going to be their undoing. They’re going to have to come save you because they just can’t live without you. And then we’re either going to kill them or recruit them.” She said, crouching down so we were at eye level. “Is that what you want? Your friends to die because of their loyalty to you?”  
I whispered, “Is it broadcasting now?”  
Emma snapped her fingers and a light on the camera came on.  
Shaw’s face came flashing on the television screen at the Mans.   
“Hello, fellow mutants.” He began. “If you haven’t happened to notice, I have your dear friend Maddey Liebling in my custody. She is currently speaking with my colleague, Emma Frost, about some issues that we feel need to be addressed.” Shaw motioned with his hand. “Shall we see what they’re up to?”  
The screen cut to Emma, crouching down, and me, pathetically tied up.  
“It seems as if your friends are watching now.” She said, backing out of the view of the camera. “Tell them what I did to your mind.”  
“She hijacked it.” I said blandly.   
“That I did. Now how about that whole begging thing I hear you used to do with Sebastian, yes?”  
I lunged at her, only to have the ties around my wrists give me rope burn. “I never begged.” I said through clasped teeth. “I never begged.”  
Emma got very close to my face, so close the tip of her nose almost touched mine, and said, “Liar.”  
I swung my legs, taking out Emma’s. She fell onto her back and groaned.   
Evidently they sat there, watching helplessly, not being able to locate me.   
“So it’s going to be a fight.” She said, standing up and cracking her neck.   
“Oh, I intend it to be. Until my last breath.”  
“Honey, I don’t doubt it.” She cocked her eyebrows. “But we’ll see how that works out for you. I don’t see it ending well.”   
“I don’t see this ending in your favor, either.” I taunted. “I have faith in the CIA.”  
She grinned from the corner of her mouth. “And not in your friends?”  
“Them, too. But if they’re intelligent enough,” I said, looking up at the camera. “They’ll know that this is a set-up.”

 

“How can you just sit here?” Erik yelled. “We don’t even know if this is live!”  
“Erik.” Charles said. “Listen to her. It’s a trap. And do not think that I am not as worried as you are.”

 

“How would you know that?” Emma questioned.   
I elevated my eyebrows. “Schmidt had never cared too much for me. He’s fonder of Erik.” I said. “You have me here because Schmidt needs him, and he knows that I’m the way to drag him down here. Schmidt wants him to figure out where I am. We probably wouldn’t have, of y’all hadn’t kidnapped me. He’s got it all planned out.”  
“Aren’t you intelligent?” Emma said sardonically. She morphed into her diamond form and threw a punch, hitting my cheekbone. I felt the skin split and the blood begin to flow. So I was right. That’s what Schmidt wanted. Keep on getting her to be violent. That’s how I knew that I was onto something.  
Emma careened backwards after she hit me. Something was up with her. I could tell she wasn’t as strong as usual. Perhaps it was my telepathic presence. Sometimes, when a strong telepath who is confident in their powers is within the same vicinity of a stronger telepath, without even trying, the stronger one can overpower the other. That had never happened to me before, and I wasn’t trying to be egocentric, but that was the only explanation. Unless Erik and Charles had done something to her in Russia.

 

The screen went to snow, before switching back to a headshot of Shaw.  
“So, now you know what is going on with your beloved sister and friend.” Shaw said. “This is only round one. We have two more to go before I kill her. Keep that in mind as you make your next move.”  
The screen went dark.

 

I was told that they sat there, with their eyes glued to the television until the next transmitted torture session. And boy, was the next one a doozy.   
Emma left, staggering out the door behind me. I stared at the curved metal of the wall two yards in front of me. It was dark, and it smelled of seawater.  
A submarine.  
I was in a submarine.  
I was moron. Of course he would be heading towards the embargo line. And what was the most discreet way to do that? Under water. He wanted to see his plan consummate. He wanted to see the very first battle that he created. He wanted to revel in the pandemonium. He wanted to watch the anarchy he created finally have its effects on the world.  
I was drained. I wasn’t hungry yet, I had built up a tolerance to hunger. I wasn’t cold, I was mostly immune to cold. I was drained because I was worried. I couldn’t have the team come here. I was worried that Erik would do something rash and I was scared for the kids, seeing their first taste of death. I was worried because I knew that concern was eating Charles alive from the inside. I knew that Charles would be sitting on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward on the cushion, cradling his chin in his hands, thinking. Moria would most likely be crying and making a damn fool out of herself. She would be making a scene. Sean would be quiet for once. Alex would be angry, as always. Hank would be trying to figure out how Shaw hacked into our television. I’m almost positive he would be the only rational one.  
I recall propping my head back onto the post and shutting my eyes. I must have fallen asleep after that. A rookie mistake. When in a hostage situation, always stay alert. Especially around a very persuasive telepath.  
I woke up, not knowing what day or what time it was. I moved a tad. My back was stiff. You’d think somebody like Schmidt would have a better way to hold people captive, but obviously there are not a lot of secret places to hide a person on a submarine.   
The door scraped open. Light footsteps came closer to me.   
Angel.

 

The TV went to static before Schmidt’s face appeared on the screen once again. The silence in the room got heavier. Everyone leaned forwards in their seats. Erik stopped pacing.  
“Welcome back, mutant brethren. On this morning’s program, we have an excellent twist for you.” Schmidt said. “Shall we begin?” The screen cut to the damp holding room. Content: one surveillance camera, one thick, metal post, an old friend, and a shocked CIA agent. 

 

“Angel.” I mouthed more than said.   
“Hey, Maddey.” She whispered. Angel stepped towards me. “I really don’t want to do this.”   
“Then don’t.”  
She whimpered, “I have to.”  
Angel jumped behind the pole and grasped my ponytail, yanking my head back so it scraped against the metal. I tried not to make a sound. I didn’t want her to think she was hurting me. Not because I wanted to let her think I had the upper hand, but because I couldn’t hurt her.  
“Tell me what you know about the CIA’s plans for the embargo.”  
“I don’t know anything.” I growled. “I don’t have that sort of clearance.”  
“What good are you then, huh?” She said through gritted teeth into my ear, pulling my hair again. “What good are you? God, you’re worthless. Why don’t I just kill you?”  
“You can’t. You won’t.” I said.  
Angel let go of my ponytail and came around in front of me. She stooped so our eyes were parallel. “I think you’re underestimating me.”  
“You’re not going to kill me. Shaw may have gotten to some of your head, but you’re still in there, Angel. I know you are.” I inclined my head. “You’ve never killed before. Your first kill will not be a friend.”  
“You’re not my friend.” She spat. I was angering her. Good.  
“Maybe not anymore. But we were. You can’t just instantaneously hate somebody you got along well with, let alone friends like us, Angel. You know this. I know this. Don’t kid yourself.”  
Angel whipped out a knife. It was short, but had a wide blade. “Emma hijacked your mind. She attacked your ability to use your mutations. I was worried about bringing something metal in here until I heard that.”  
She placed the tip of the knife on the cut on my cheekbone. I winced. Damn it. Angel twisted the knife so it spilt open my wound again, enlarging it. I bit my tongue and groaned. Angel frowned then warped her lips up into a scowl. “Ah, so this is what they were talking about.” She drove the knife deeper.  
“Angel.” I said. Use her name as often as possible. Remind her that she is a human being. Say your name as often as possible, Maddey. Remind her that you are a person, too. “Angel. Look at me, Angel.” Her eyes met mine. “Angel, believe me, this is not how you want to remember yourself when you’re lying on your death bed. You don’t want to remember yourself as the girl who killed her friend Maddey in cold blood.”  
She removed the knife from my cheek. I exhaled in relief. She placed the icy blade on my throat instead. “I’ve always been jealous of you, you know.” She began tracing a thin line across my skin, careful not to slit it just yet. “You have alabaster skin, gorgeous eyes, dark,curly hair. You’re beautiful. The envy of any girl. And a couple people clearly had their eyes on you.”  
I furrowed my eyebrows. “You’re doing this because you’re jealous? Believe me, Angel, you’re much better looking than I am.”  
“No. I’m doing this for the satisfaction of knowing that no man would ever be attracted to you with scars like these. How about we start by messing up your lips?”  
I made a piercing sound that could have passed for a ‘no’. Angel began to trace the outline of my mouth. I could feel the blood trickle over my lips.   
“Angel.” I heard an accented voice say. “That is enough.” Azaezel had come into the room. “You must leave her practically untouched for him.”  
Angel stepped back. She was clearly upset. Angel left the room with Azaezel. I began to hyperventilate. I knew that everyone could still see me. The light on the camera was still on. But I needed to breathe. I felt as if I had been holding my breath the entire time Angel had been in here. After a minute or so of heavy breathing and fighting the urge to faint, I saw the light on the tiny camera go off.

 

The TV switched to Shaw’s face. “We have one more session to go. Hold onto your hats, kids, this one will be a joy.”  
The screen went to black.  
“We have to find her.” Moria said. “We have to.”  
Charles shook his head. “We have no idea where she is.”  
“What did that room look like?” Erik asked. “Was it circular?”  
“Yes.” Charles replied. “Erik, you’re onto something.”  
“And where do you think Shaw is going to be, Charles?” Erik said.  
“My God.” Charles whispered. “The embargo line.”


	7. Chapter 7

I shivered. I knew that this time, Schmidt would be pulling out all the stops. This was the grand finale. It had to be perfect. Everything had to go according to plan. He needed the team to show up soon, or the whole thing would blow up in his face. He needed more mutants here to cause the kind of chaos he wanted. Schmidt wanted Erik angry. He had succeeded.   
Cautiously, I wiggled my wrists. It was time for an inventory of my injuries. Definitely some serious rope burn around my wrists. I shifted my feet. Not as bad around my ankles, but it was still obviously there. I assumed I had a scrape or cut on the back of my head from the post. And of course there was that gash on my cheek. That was going to leave a nasty scar.   
I couldn’t help but thinking about what Angel said. Why would someone who had been as kind as her be overcome with such envy that she felt the need to kill me? Was Shaw really that manipulative? Actually, yes, he was. But I didn’t know that Angel was that easily influenced. I had expected a lot from her. She was a good, honest person. I was greatly disappointed in the cruel path she chose to take, 

 

“How are we supposed to get there?” Sean asked.  
“Well, there is the Blackbird.” Alex suggested. “The plane that Hank designed?”  
“Speaking of, where is Hank?” Moria questioned.   
Charles stood. “I don’t know. Sean, Alex, please go look for him. The three of us will be in here discussing our options.”  
The kids left. Charles sat again, next to Moria. Erik began to pace.   
“What are we going to do?” Moria asked.   
“I don’t know.” Charles answered. “We don’t have too many options. We could go to Cuba, and risk Maddey and everyone else getting killed. Or we could sit here and save the kids’ lives. We can’t go to Cuba without them.”  
“If we stay here, Maddey will be dead by the end of today.” Erik said angrily.   
“You are willing to risk the lives of the kids to save her?” Charles asked.  
“And you’re not?” Erik spat. “She is your sister. She could be dead right now.”  
Charles sighed. “That’s the problem, Erik. We could be rushing in there only to find her dead. Then Shaw could recruit, use, or torture everyone else.”  
“He can’t. Because I’m going to kill him.”  
“Erik.”  
“Don’t get in my way, Charles. If there is one person on the planet who deserves it, it’s him.” 

 

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw something flicker.   
The light on the camera was back on. 

 

“Guys.” Moria said, jumping from her seat. “Guys, look.”

 

“Charles?” I asked. “Can you hear me?”

 

Charles stood, inching toward the television. “Yes.” He said. “I can hear you.”

 

“This is a trap.” I said. “Don’t come. He needs--.”  
The light on the camera flashed off. 

 

The screen went dark. Charles sank to the floor.  
“Don’t tell me that I should be more worried.” He said, addressing the floor. 

 

I shouted. “Damn it! God damn it!”   
If only I had had a few more seconds, I could have told them. I could have prevented all that was about to happen. That had pissed me off. Fate had dealt me a winning hand and I through it all away because I was dumb enough to ask if he could hear me.   
The blood on my cheek was starting to cake. The wound was starting to stop bleeding. It still hurt like hell, but this was an improvement. The back of my head, on the other hand, was practically gushing blood. I had had my fair share of head wounds and I knew that they bled more than other types of cuts, but I was anxious about this one. If I lost enough blood, especially through my head, that could be bad news. I could pass out and get hijacked again, or worse.   
I tried to combat the need to sleep, but I gave in. I was thinking about the possibility—more like probability—of my imminent death when I went under. 

 

We cannot just sit here and watch her die!” Erik yelled. “I for one refuse to!”  
Charles was still in a heap on the floor, his head slightly raised, eyes locked on the TV.

 

My eyes fluttered open. How long had I been sleeping? Was it time for another session? Had my head stopped bleeding? Was my cheek closing up? Why was everything blurry? Were my powers back? Was the light on the camera on? Was I dead? Was the team here yet? Did I want them to be here? Was I going to die so they didn’t have to? Was my life going to come full circle in some twisted way when I died at the hands of Schmidt?  
There was a knock on the door, and the light on the camera switched on.  
Dear God. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.  
“Hello, Maddey.” Schmidt said, drawing closer to me. He faced me, his hands folded behind his back. “I apologize for Angel. She still has much to learn.”  
“You’re disgusting.”  
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”  
“I want to kill you.”  
“That is not the first time I’ve heard that, either.” Schmidt began to walk back and forth in a straight line. “I understand that you are still holding a grudge. You find me responsible for the death of your father. I suppose what happened in the camps would anger you.”  
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “That is the understatement of a lifetime.”  
“So you are still angry. Good. Anger is the first step to self-actualization. Now, I’d like you to tell me about the CIA. What’s it like?”  
“I do a lot of paperwork.” I hissed.   
“And in that paperwork, I assume you have picked up on some of the CIA’s secrets, yes?”  
“No.”  
“Liar!” He screeched.  
“Keep your cool, Herr Doctor. I assume that you are far past the first stage in self-actualization. Anger will get you nowhere with me.”  
“And what will?”  
I laughed. “You’re very amusing, Herr Schmidt.”  
“I don’t remember you being this difficult back when I had your father strapped to a table with a gun pointed at his head. Now you have guns pointed at all the people in the world that you care about. Why the change?”  
“I learned how to deal with sociopathic dicks.”  
“Oh?” He said, lifting his eyebrows. “That is what you think me to be?”  
“I know that’s what you are. Also, you’re a ruthless murderer. That gets you all hot and bothered, doesn’t it? You enjoy killing people. In a different world you would have made a very nice serial killer.” I paused, leaning my head forward. “Oh, wait, right. I forgot. You already are.”   
Schmidt lunged forward and grabbed my shoulders, slamming them up against the pole. “You are walking a very thin line, Jew. I suggest you step back.” He released my shoulders, and walked backwards, fixing his double-breasted suit. “I apologize for that outburst.”  
“You never change, do you, Herr Doctor? So much pent up anger and yet you apologize when you show it. Come on.” I taunted him. “Get angry.”  
He clenched his jaw. “I recall your father well.” He began. “I do not remember the pleadings of many of the Jews that died, but his still ring clear in my mind. Before my men dragged him into that room, he looked right at me. You father looked me in the eye and begged—that’s right, begged—for your safety. He said, ‘Herr Doctor, my daughter is going to do great things. Pardon her, Doctor, please.’ Ah, love. Silly, isn’t it? It only gets in the way of things. But I do enjoy it when people beg. It is incredibly amusing, being so totally in charge of another person. I had total dominance over your father. The only thing he had left to lose was you.”  
“Is this supposed to bother me?” I asked. “I came to terms with my family’s death a long time ago. Nothing you say to me will change the way I feel about that.”  
“Really?” Schmidt questioned, tilting his head to the side and walking toward me. “What if I told you that there was only one button on that switchboard?”  
I tried to ensure that the shock didn’t register on my face, but to no avail.  
“That’s right.” He said. “There was only one button on that switchboard. And you would press it every time. The button did nothing. You made those men pull the triggers with your mind, because that’s what you thought was going to happen, so you made it happen. No matter what you did, it was you who made the final choice. Because you needed to cope with killing people, you made yourself think there were hundreds of buttons on that board. Aren’t minds so vulnerable? But look who I’m talking to. You of all people should know that.”  
I whispered through gritted teeth, “You’re lying.”  
“That my dear, is where you are wrong.”  
My chest started to heave against my will. I felt tears welling up.   
No, he’s wrong. He’s lying, he’s a lying, manipulative bastard, and you’ve always known that. You didn’t kill all those people, Maddey. You didn’t kill your father. He wants a reaction. This is what he wants, he wants you to show emotion, to try to hit him, something. He needs to know he has the upper hand. That he has control of you. Don’t give him that.  
“So?” I said. “What does that change? He’s still dead, whether it was by my doing or not.”  
He slammed his palm into the pole. I resisted the urge to jump.   
Schmidt took the collar of my shirt and shoved it down with my jacket, revealing my right shoulder. He violently shoved his finger at a burn mark he had left there years ago. “Do you see that?” He screamed, his hair falling out of place. “I left that there! That was from a cigar. And damn, those were nice cigars. It was a pity I had to waste it by putting it out on a piece of shit like you! I tried to help you in the camps, God damn it! I was helping you become who you are, who you were meant to be! Can’t you see that? I gave my life to the two of you, and both of you are ungrateful! Without me, you wouldn’t be as strong as you are today! I practically raised you! And you show your thanks like this, ha! You’ve always been useless. You couldn’t follow simple directions. You’ve always been stubborn. You are nothing, do you hear me?” He said, jabbing his index finger at the bridge of my nose. “Ah! And look at this!” He said, lifting up my shirt, so he could see the scar he had left near my belly button. “I recall that day vividly. There you were, strapped to that gurney, whimpering like a helpless idiot. How long has it been? Almost twenty years? Have you thought about me since then?” He placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, I would be honored if you did. To think that I made such an impact on your pathetic life!”  
“My life has not been pathetic.” I spat. “I have loved more than you are ever going to be capable of. I have real friends. A family. And what do you have?” I seethed. “Nothing. You have nothing. You have a beautiful, intelligent woman you use as a sex toy. She could have been so much more. All you have ever done is push everybody down. You always need to feel superior. And I pity you. It pains me to say that. After liberation, all I wanted to do was leave everything behind, but I couldn’t help but pity you, of all people. Because maybe I saw what you could have been. Children are more observant than you think. I knew even then that something had happened to make you the way you are. Were you bullied? Did kids pick on you? Oh, well that’s just terrible. Now you just had to go out and kill some people. Was your father a drunk? Did your mom sleep around? Did they neglect you? Were you beaten as a child? Well, then you turned around and did the same thing. How can you be such a hypocrite? How can you not see that you’re a hypocrite? How do you wake up every morning and not think about all the horrible things you’ve done? All the people you killed? You tore apart families and scarred humans, mutants, forever. I don’t know how many people you tortured. I don’t want to know the numbers. I don’t even want to know a ballpark estimate. What I want to know is why this was your choice, why you chose this path in life. Why choose to hurt people? Because they hurt you?”  
Schmidt ground his jaw. “I will not tell you about my past.”  
“Oh.” I whimpered sarcastically, pushing out my lower lip. “Is it hard to talk about? Does it hurt too much?”  
He slapped me. I felt my face sting in the shape of a hand.   
“Do not back talk. Didn’t your parents teach you anything?”  
“They didn’t have the opportunity.”  
This time he took his forearm and shoved it vehemently against my throat. The back of my neck hit the metal post and I heard a pop. My head started to bleed again.  
“Listen to me.” He hissed. “We seem to have gone off on a tangent. I want to know about the CIA’s plans for the nuclear placement, yes?”  
“I told you, I don’t know anything about that.” I croaked.  
“No.” He said. “You said you didn’t know anything about the embargo.”  
“I don’t know about either.” I wheezed. “I’m a field agent, nothing special.”  
Schmidt released his grasp on my throat and backed off. He kneeled beside my left arm and removed a knife from his pocket. “This was my ceremonial knife from the war.” He said, turning it over in his hands. “Blut und Ehre. Fitting message.”   
He rammed the sleeve of my jacket and sweater up to the crook of my elbow, exposing my identification tattoo from the camps. He positioned the tip of the knife on the first number and traced it, drawing blood. He repeated the same thing over every number, digging the blade deeper every time. I thought about screaming, but I knew that would only give him the satisfaction he needed. So instead, I bit my bottom lip until I felt blood gush over it and onto my chin. Once he was finished outlining the numbers, he pulled my sleeve back down. I flinched.   
“Now.” He said, turning my face so I was looking at the camera. “Is there anything you would like to tell your friends?”  
I let go of my breath shakily and said, “This is just chess. He’s playing games with you. This is a game of chess and we’re all his pawns.”  
Schmidt took the bottom of his knife, his fist wrapped tightly around it, and jammed it into my temple.   
I fainted before I could feel too much pain.  
…  
“It’s only a shot.”  
“Maddey, there is no need to be upset.”  
“Charles, you don’t understand.”  
I could feel my skin searing. I was having a nightmare. Everything was bundled up into one dream, every emotion I’d ever had clustered up in front of my closed eyes. Run, run, breathe, breathe, think rationally. Just a dream, Maddey, it’s just a dream. Hold on. Hold on.  
“Pick the button.”  
“Lie still.”   
“I said hold still, damn it!”  
“We have to take you to the doctor.”  
“Hold still you piece of Jewish shit.”  
“I will kill them all.”  
“This is how you thank me?”  
“I practically raised you!”  
I had the feeling of being lifted up very far into the air. I felt like I was going up on of those hills on a rollercoaster. Suddenly, the submarine dropped onto something hard. My head hit the pole when the submarine landed, and I passed out once again.  
…  
Something was shifting around my ankles. I whined, my heavy eyelids wavering open. I could see the blurry form of someone kneeling by my feet. They were frantically trying to untie the ropes around my ankles. Compared to the heat radiating from my body, their touch was cold. I thought about kicking whoever it was, but apparently they were trying to help me.   
My eyesight finally focused. “Erik.” I whispered, my voice dry.  
“Maddey.” He said, dropping the ropes. “Thank God.” Erik had already undone the ties around my hands. He embraced me. I hugged him back mostly because I was the most relieved and yet worried I had been in my life. “We all thought that you were…”  
“Dead? So optimistic.” I let go of Erik, but he kept his hands on my shoulders. Frantically, I said, “Why are you here? Shaw is just going to kill everybody, he’s got this all planned out. He wants you here and angry, and he needs all of this mutant power for his plan-.”  
“Shh. We know, we know. We’re not going to let him get to us, I promise.”  
“That’s just it, Erik.” I said anxiously. “He wants you. He knows that he got to your head more than mine. He knows and he’s going to use that to his advantage.”  
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine”  
I moved away from the post and Erik. I was bleeding from my temple all over the left side of my face, and by my cheekbone on the right. Blood was caked to the back of my head, and I had bled through my left sleeve. I scrunched up my nose and looked at Erik. “What’s up with the jumpsuit?”  
“Oh.” He chuckled to himself. “Hank designed them. They’re supposed to be bulletproof.”  
“Well you don’t really have that problem, do you?”  
“No.” Schmidt said, opening the door. “He doesn’t.”  
Light filtered in from the room behind him. Erik whipped his head upwards and stood, his hair falling out of place. I stood up as well, brushing off my pants. I wobbled a little before regaining my balance. Erik had the most vengeful, frightening, hate-filled look I had ever seen in my life fixed on Shaw. I never really thought Erik to be intimidating until then. I stepped back. It was best to be out of his way when he went at Shaw.   
Erik walked over to me and put his hand on the small of my back, leading me towards the door. Shaw moved out of the way. We came into a bright room with what looked like glass walls. Erik opened the door on the opposite said, gesturing for me to leave.  
“Erik.” I said. “Be careful. He’s been waiting for this moment since 1945.”  
“So have I.”   
The door slid shut with a sealing clank. I exhaled. I didn’t take in the surroundings of the submarine as I sprinted, flinging open doors until I came out into the blinding light of day. My feet hit the sand hard. I slowly walked forward, attempting to see who was fighting on the beach. Sean was fighting Angel. Alex, and a person who I assumed was Hank even though he was now blue, were fighting off Azaezel. I didn’t know where Emma Frost was, but I saw light moving in the upside down Blackbird across the beach. I could feel Charles’s telepathic presence. He was communicating with Erik inside of the submarine. I ran along the tree line, and then down the beach, crawling into the plane through a hole. I fell onto hard metal and groaned. Moria heard me and ran over, helping me up. She wasn’t forming a coherent sentence, but instead led me over to Charles, who was shouting and hitting his palm up against the wall of the airplane. I moved Moria back by the crook of her elbow as we stood there, watching Charles emit a yell full of extreme pain. I knew immediately that Charles was inside of Shaw’s mind and Erik had—or was—killing him. When Charles stopped shrieking, he fell backwards out of the airplane. Moria and I jumped out after him. I propped Charles up against the exterior of the plane and wiped blood off his face.  
“Maddey.” He said weakly. “You look terrible.”  
“Compared to your yellow and blue get ups?” I sarcastically said.  
“No, I mean you’re bleeding. A lot.”  
“I’ll be fine.” I said.   
Moria and I turned around when we saw Charles’s eyebrows furrow at something in the distance. Erik was levitating, I suppose would be the correct word, Shaw off the ground. He was wearing Shaw’s old helmet. Erik was also sort of floating many meters off the ground. He dropped Shaw to the ground with a loud thump. Charles pushed himself off the plane, and Moria and I followed him. Everyone had stopped what they were doing when Shaw fell onto the sand. The three of us ended up standing in a line about in the middle of the beach, in front of the kids and Azaezel, who were gaping up at Erik. Erik drifted to the ground, walking so he was standing close to the edge of the water.   
Erik began, “Today our fighting stops. Take off your blinders, brothers and sisters. The real enemy is out there. I feel their guns moving in the water. Their metal targeting us. Americans. Soviets. Humans. United in their fear of the unknown. The Neanderthal is running scared, my fellow mutants! Go ahead, Charles. Tell me I’m wrong.”  
Charles put two of his fingers to his temple. A moment later, he strode back, horrified. He turned his head and nodded at Moria, who ran back to the remains of the Blackbird. There was an instant of terrified silence before we saw the missiles from both the Russians and the Americans came spiraling at us. Erik lifted up a hand and stopped them, reversing the weapons so they were facing at the two fleets.   
“Erik, you said yourself, we’re the better men. This is the time to prove it.” When Erik didn’t release the missiles, Charles became desperate. “There are thousands of men on those ships! Good, honest, innocent men! They’re just following orders.”  
Erik turned his head to Charles, still keeping his grip on the missiles. “I’ve been at the mercy of men just following orders.” He said. “Never again.” He made a motion with his hand and the missiles went soaring back at the ships.   
“Erik, release them!”   
I was terrified. Something had changed within Erik and I was scared of whatever he had become. This was not the person I knew. I moved back towards the kids. I was too shocked. I didn’t, I couldn’t, believe what was happening in front of me. I didn’t know if anyone would live if I tried to interfere.


	8. Chapter 8

When Erik didn’t let go of the missiles, Charles went running head-first at Erik, tackling him. They both fell to the ground and started trying to beat each other off. The missiles began to drop. Erik tried to get them back up in the sky. Only a few did.  
“I don’t want to hurt you! Don’t make me!” Hank made a move to intervene. “Back off!” Erik sent Alex, Sean, and Hank flying backwards into the brush by the metal on their uniforms, but left me standing. I bit the inside of my cheek. I had to do something.  
“That is enough!” Charles yelled, trying to remove the helmet from Erik’s head. “Erik, stop!” Erik punched Charles in the jaw and rose, extending his hand once again to control the missiles. Some of them had previously exploded in mid-air during the fight.  
I whipped my head to the side to see Moria, arms outstretched, shooting at Erik. He deflected all of them.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charles rising to his feet. He locked eyes with me.  
Erik averted one more bullet.  
It went flying into Charles’s spine.  
He touched his back and collapsed onto the sand.  
My hands went over my mouth.  
I dashed to Charles, but Erik got there first.  
He cradled Charles’s head in his arms.  
I felt one tear slide down my blood caked face.  
I watched.  
I watched Erik’s lips close around the words ‘I’m sorry.’ I watched as Charles inwardly forgave him. I watched as Erik turned his gaze to Moria and said;  
“You. You did this.” Erik used his mutation to strangle Moria with her dog tags. Her hands went to her throat. I was still cemented to the shore, watching it all go down like some horrible, sick dream. The kids stepped forwards in order to stop Erik. “I SAID BACK OFF!” Erik made them go flying backwards another time.  
“Wait, please.” Charles rasped. “She didn’t do this Erik. You did.”  
Erik let go of Moria’s dog tags and gradually turned around. He walked back to Charles and knelt down next to him.  
Apologetically, Erik said; “Us turning on each other, that’s what they want. I tried to warn you, Charles. I want you by my side. We’re brothers, you and I. All of us together, protecting each other. We want the same thing.”  
“I’m sorry my friend, but we do not.”  
Erik warily laid Charles on the ground. Moria rushed over and started petting the hair off his head, mumbling something about how it was going to be alright. Erik made his way over to me. We stood six inches or so apart from each other. Erik had a scrape on the right side of his forehead.  
Nearly whispering, he said, “Come with me.”  
“He needs me.” I looked at Charles. “He can’t survive without me.”  
Erik put a hand on my face, turning it towards his. “Neither can I.”  
“That’s the thing, Erik. You can. You’re stronger than he is. He depends on me. We’re siblings. I can’t leave him. That would kill him, Erik. You know that.”  
“But think of what we could do!” Erik said. “Together.”  
I took Erik’s hand and removed it from my cheek. “You’re not…you anymore, Erik. You’re…different. I suppose this person has always been hiding somewhere, ready to emerge when the time came. The moment you drove that coin through Shaw’s head when you knew Charles was inside of it, the moment you blocked your best friend out, you’ve been different. The Erik Lehnsherr I know would never have killed thousands of innocent people in a heartbeat. This isn’t you. You’ve only proven to the humans that we’re out to dominate them. Now they’re going to hunt every last one of us down and make sure that we don’t have the opportunity. You’ve started another genocide, Erik. You made the first move. Just wait and see how they react. And I am telling you now, it is not going to be prosperous for us. I promise you that.”  
“But don’t you see?” He said, gesturing to the fleets. “They’re afraid of us. They know what we can do!”  
I sneered. “That’s exactly the problem. Humans aren’t going to let something they fear get away with something like this. They will find you.”  
“I’ve been hiding since the war. I think I can do it for a little longer.”  
“Yes, but now you have people with you, responsibilities. Can you handle that?”  
“Of course.” He said. “Yes.”  
“Then there is nothing I can do. Goodbye, Erik.”  
He blinked a few times, trying to take in what I had told him. He was grasping with that horrific emotion called rejection. I felt a slight tinge of guilt for hurting him. “Maddey, I…”  
“Don’t.”  
“I love you.”  
I thinned my lips and nodded. “Bis ich dich wieder sehen, Erik.”  
“Bis ich dich wieder sehen, Maddey.” Erik seemed like he was going to say something else but decided against it. He nodded and took a breath. Erik walked towards what was the first class of the Brotherhood of Mutants, and took Angel’s hand.  
Azaezel teleported them off to God knows where.


	9. Chapter 9

I tore off to Charles. He had lost consciousness while Erik and I were speaking.   
“I don’t want to move him.” Moria whimpered.   
“Have you been holding your hand against the wound?”  
“Good.” I said. “You’ve been doing great. Keep on holding your hand there. I’m going to go see if the kids are okay and if Hank can help.”  
I turned around and walked to Hank. “Look, I’m going to skip out on the snarky comment about your um, physical change. My brother is over there in the process of dying and I need your medical expertise, Hank.”  
“Well, I’m not a medical doctor, but-.”  
“But you can try to help?”  
“Yes.”  
I clapped Hank on the shoulder. “Get the hell over there then.”  
Hank ran off toward Moria and Charles. I looked at Alex and Sean. There was a gaping hole in the chest of Alex’s jumpsuit. Sean had a decently severe scratch from the inside of his elbow to his wrist.  
“Sean, let me help with that.” I said, taking his wrist. I ripped open the sleeve of his uniform so it revealed the entire wound.  
“If anyone needs help, it’s you.” Sean said. “You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood.”  
“You know what Sean, I’m not going to lie to you, I have. And I feel like complete shit. But I would feel much better about myself if you just let me fix this, okay?” Sean nodded. I tore some fabric off the bottom of my sweater and dabbed some of the excess blood off his forearm. Damn, this was going to need stitches. Maybe the Blackbird still had its first aid kit. “Alex.” I said. “Take Sean over to the Blackbird and find the first aid kit. Hold this piece of fabric over the cut to stop the bleeding, alright?”  
Alex nodded his consent and walked off with Sean to the plane. I went back over to Hank, Moria, and Charles. Moria had tears and blood dried on her skin. Hank was doing his best to help Charles without waking him.   
“He needs to get to a hospital.” Hank said. “There’s virtually nothing I can do for him.”  
I sighed. “How do you suggest we get off this damn island and to a hospital?”  
“Them.” He said, pointing to the ships.   
“Do you really think that they’re going to want to help us after this?” Moria asked.   
“It’s worth a shot.”  
“Unless you think that you can teleport since you’ve seen it.” Hank proposed. “I mean, that’s worth a shot too.”  
“I don’t know. I’ve never used that mutation before, and I don’t know if that qualifies as a physical power.” I paused. “Hank, I might end up killing him for sure. But what I do know is that I can get inside somebody’s heads on one of those ships and I can send a medical boat out here.”  
“Try that first, then.”  
I fixed my eyes on one of the American ships out in the bay. I worked my way through the decks until I found the medical commander. I made him get a team together and row their way onto the beach. I also made sure that they saw Hank as a normal human being so they didn’t have a heart attack. Hank explained that Charles had been shot in the back and was most likely paralyzed.   
Paralyzed.  
My brother, with all of his boundless zeal for life, in a wheelchair.   
I grabbed onto Moria’s upper arm. “Go get the kids.” I whispered shakily. “We’re getting them on that boat, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter and I have to say that writing this has been very difficult for me. The stamina and perseverance it took really drained me. This chapter in particular. I wrote the letter portion before I wrote the last four chapters and I knew that I had to work it in somehow. I remember crying when I wrote it because I had become so attached to these characters and their stories. This chapter was so full of emotion. And if it's in demand, I will write a part two to this story. I'd be glad to revisit this world. Please make sure to comment below so I can have your feedback on whether or not you want a 'next time'.

Three Months Later  
Snow fell in large flakes around the mansion. Charles sat near the fire in his wheelchair in the study, thinking. Out of nowhere, he asked, “Maddey? What did Erik tell you on that beach?”  
I wasn’t prepared for that question. “What do you mean?”  
“Exactly what I said. What did he tell you?”  
I debated making up a lie, but I knew that even without getting into my head he would see right through me. “He asked me to go with him.”  
“I knew he would.”  
“And he told me that he loved me.” I said.  
“I knew he’d say that, too.”  
“How?” I asked. “Even I couldn’t tell.”  
“It was in the way he looked at you. Like you were the best, most beautiful thing in the world. Like he was trying to memorize every inch of you while he had the chance.” Charles wheeled himself over to me. “You were what kept him here. Not me, not the kids. You.”  
I didn’t say anything. I sat on the sofa, staring at the crackling wood in the fire.  
“He wanted to be with you. Every second of the day. You were his weak spot, and he knew it. And not that I approve of anyone being in love with my little sister, but you two were… I mean, before he…you know. The two of you were very similar. You understood each other. I think you understood him better than I did, and I got inside his head.”  
“You don’t always have to get inside of someone’s head to get to know them, Charles. I’m living proof of that.” I said.  
“I know, I know.” Charles popped his jaw, looking down at his feet. “You know, you could leave, go find him if you want.”  
I had almost never lied to my brother before. In that moment, I told a half-lie. “I don’t.”  
“Well, it would be better than sitting here doing nothing with your crippled brother.”  
I sighed. “Charles. I’m going to love you whether or not you you’re purple or green or blue like Hank. I’d even love you if you weren’t smart, and you know how I hate stupid people.”  
He laughed. “That means the world to me.”  
I climbed onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed the side of my head. He was lonely now, without Erik. Moria had left a long time ago to go back to work and smooth things over, but almost never bothered to call. Sean had joined the military with Alex, so it was just me, Hank, and Charles at the Mans. Of course he still had me, but I knew full well that Charles was saddened by the departure of Erik and the fact that what he had grown to call X-Men: First Class had dismantled. He missed being a teacher.  
Charles leaned over and snatched an envelope from the coffee table. “Here.” He said. “This came for you in the mail today.” I took it from his hands, and sat back down on the couch. Charles began to wheel his way out of the room, but before he left, he said with a bittersweet smirk; “I think I know who it’s from.”  
I disregarded that comment and Charles left. I ripped open the envelope. Three pages with neat, cursive handwriting fell onto my lap. I took them in my right hand and began to read, my left hand cupping my mouth. My breathing about stopped.

 

My Dearest Maddey,  
I begin this letter with a declaration of great sincerity. I want you to know I mean every word, every sentence on this paper. I am pouring out my heart and soul to you. Every word I am writing comes from the depths of my heart. I would say this in person, as that would be my preferred method, but I am almost positive that Charles and/or any of the other boys have a motive to kill me. I wouldn’t want you to see that. There will be three main explanations in this letter. Let me begin.  
1\. I regret with every fiber of my body abandoning you on that beach. I should have fought harder for you. I miss you. I should have done everything in my power to ensure that the two of us would be together. And now I don’t know if we will ever see one another again. That causes me so much pain that I stop breathing when I think about that concept. It’s only been three months since Cuba and I cannot even function properly without your presence. I want you to be happy, and I know that you’re too good for me, that you wouldn’t be happy with me. You would miss Charles. I understand that. But I would give my life to see you laugh once more, to just see you. I wouldn’t even have to speak to you. You would not have to be aware of my presence. I want to see your eyes dance. I need you. But I can’t see you. It eats away at my being every day. I am distressed. Everyone can tell. Especially Angel. I think she knows.  
2\. I never should have left for Russia. Somewhere deep down I knew that leaving you and the kids at the facility was the wrong choice. Somewhere I knew you were going to get hurt. And because I left then, that led to me leaving later on, when Shaw kidnapped you. I blame that on myself. I should have been there. I should have protected you. I should have killed him then and then none of this would have happened. You would never have begun to loathe me as you do. Why wasn’t I there? Why wasn’t I there for you? Why have I never been there? All of these events led to the battle high I was making my decisions with on that Godforsaken beach. If I had never pointed those missiles at those ships, I would still be with you. We’d all be laughing somewhere in the mansion, near a fire. I would still be able to hold you close when you woke up from a nightmare. You would still be able to comfort me when I thought about my mother, when I woke up from a dream about Shaw. You would be there. We would be reading in perfect silence. We would still be gossiping about everyone else in German. I made a terrible choice that cost me you. I understand and am coming to terms with that. But I’m sure I’m a wanted criminal now, and I cannot put you in that risky situation. I have already done that too many times for my liking. In short, it is my fault all of this has happened.  
3\. Last, but most definitely not least, I must say and elaborate on one more thing, mein lieber. I love you.

With all of my heart, soul, and body, I love you. I love your eyes and your smile and your freckles. I love the way you understand me. I love that we are so alike. I love the way you don’t judge me and that you take me for who I am. I love the way you laugh. I love when you speak German. I love that you are a walking oxymoron. I love that you are my everything. I love that you are the center of my world. But most of all, I love you. I love the very idea of you. I love your enormous, good heart. I love how that when you said my name, you made it sound like a melody, not the harsh beating of constants I was used to. Shaw ruined my name for me. You, my love, brought it back. My God, I love you. Every molecule in my body screams for your touch, for your presence. I dream about you every night. About the way you throw your head back when you laugh. I dream about you all covered in flour from baking strudel for Hanukkah. What I would give to see you smiling at me one more time. God, to just be in the same room as you would be intoxicating. It was. Thinking about you is intoxicating. I can hardly think straight when I think about those gorgeous brown eyes, and the way they shine in the light. When you walked into that interrogation room on the night we first met, you took my breath away. You walked in with such confidence. You exude it, you know. You have no idea the effect you have on people. And not to mention you were—and still are—so beautiful, in that oversized Oxford sweater and tight jeans. I remember that your hair was up in a ponytail, and it swayed when you walked. If I’m being honest, I was scared to death, seeing you there, the embodiment of perfection, sitting in front of me. I didn’t know what to say. And then you spoke, and my heart stopped. We laughed together, and I was amazed. I was already in your gravity. You were all I could think about in the hiatus when we didn’t see each other. You still are the only thing I think about. I was a fool to even think you’d remember me. But you did. When you said my name, when we stood so close, I was in a daze. I could not believe you were standing there in front of me. We were fast friends. We got along so well. You are the only person who has ever truly understood me. Not even Charles understands me like you do. I saw how you were such close friends with Hank and Alex as well, and I was jealous. I wanted you to be spending that time with me, not with them. I worried about you when you were with the boys. You were mine, I thought. You, with all the enthusiasm you had for life, could never love me, with all of my baggage. And I was afraid, so worried, so nervous, when Shaw took you. I couldn’t think straight. Not knowing if you were okay, it killed me. I didn’t protect you, you weren’t safe, you with a Nazi and the person I hated most in the world and it was my fault. I saw you in that hidden room in the submarine and it was the biggest sense of relief I have ever felt in my life. All I wanted to do was hold you and kiss you and keep you safe. But I knew that if I kissed you, you would hate me. I thought you would hate me for loving you. Now I regret not telling you sooner. But you were still so stunning, even without any makeup, your hair a mess, bleeding from your temple. Dear God, it hurt me to see you like that. I will never stop blaming myself. And then I left you, I left you and Charles and Alex and Hank and Sean on that beach. I betrayed and abandoned you and all you gave me was your kindness. You said ‘until we meet again’ in German. How can you not despise me? You, a woman who still sings Disney music, a woman with my heart. You will always have it. I cannot imagine a day when you do not. I will never stop loving you, Maddey Shoshanna Liebling. My starke eins. 

I do not expect a reply from you. I do not expect any feelings in return. I do not expect you to come hunting me down. And I do not expect your forgiveness. That is something I could never ask for. But please, I beg of you, remember me as who I was before Cuba. Everything you said on that beach, I see in hindsight, was so true. Please remember me as the man who loved you, not who would kill thousands of innocent people in an instant. 

I love you.  
Forever Yours,  
Erik Lehnsherr  
I placed the letter on the side table and sank back down onto the couch. What did I want to do? Should I risk answering him and losing my job? What should I do with the letter? The kids couldn’t see it, I knew that. And definitely not Charles. Not one hundred per cent sure what to do, I folded it up as many times as the paper could bear and shoved it underneath the lamp base and the wood of the table, a corner poking out. I would come back for it later—but not before I had time to think. I knew I wasn’t going to find him, that wasn’t an option. I was too far into what I was doing now, with Charles and Hank. Whatever revolution the first class of X-men had started, good or bad, had sparked something in all of us, whether it was the fight for coexistence, equality and peace, or violence and eradication, it couldn’t be erased. We had started something that had the momentum of a jet.  
I stepped out into the foyer and turned my head to see Charles and Hank discussing something in the kitchen. I threw on my jacket, yanked my purse off its hanger and left the house behind me, not really sure where I was going to end up. Wherever it was, I hoped that others could move on without me for a little while. I planned to come back before Christmas, but Christmas turned into Easter. I would see them all again I knew, but I just was not sure when.


End file.
